Red
by Lakis
Summary: She doesn't belong in the 11th,yet here she is.Skilled in Hakuda, inexperienced in the ways of the sword,Tobi is enlisted into the 11th Division by Captain Yamamoto.The patriarchal Division must deal with a permanent woman in their midst. ZaraOC  IkkaOC
1. The Little Big Girl

"You've got to be kidding me."

"She's barely up to my waist!"

"That girl is gonna be chew'd up and spit out."

Zaraki Kenpachi listened to his men complain about the girl behind him. He was ready to just throw her out, but somewhere is his gut, he knew not to. It was recruiting time in the Seireitei, and he had found some great young men with brilliant potential, but… he'd also found a woman.

She was small and spunky, and had surprised him by how much raw power she sustained within her tiny body. She was taller than Kuchiki Rukia, at least, which was not saying much, but it was something. She was brilliantly skilled in Hakuda, making her wanted by Sui Feng for the Second Division, but once Zaraki saw her with a sword, no matter how inexperienced she was with it, he saw the potential. He knew he had to have her for his Division.

He was pleasantly surprised by how she held her own. Submerged in a sea of bloodied, battle worn men who were dissing her strength and prowess; yet, she stood by her new Captain with a surprising pride. She did not hide in his shadow, rather she used it to make her seem more formidable, the shadows painting her skin like black snakes. Her pale arms, tattooed and scarred were crossed over her chest, her faded-brown eyes narrowed in annoyance. She had bright, white-blond locks, dyed by proof of the light brown roots near her scalp, and it was pulled into a messy faux-hawk at the top of her head. Her uniform was tailored to suit her body, the hakama sliced off above the knee, the top part without arms and tied behind her neck. Two rings of black tape were around her lower arms. She risked a lot by showing so much skin in a place like the Eleventh Division.

Zaraki scowled. His ears were starting to burn from his men's scratchy voices. "Alright, Listen Up!" he shouted.

His men quieted down at a meandering pace, but eventually the training area went silent. Now it was a little bit too quiet… "It's not like you've never seen a woman who could fight before! Stop being such whiners and deal with it. She isn't the first woman to land in this Division, just the first in a while. So shut it and be civil. She's your new 6th seat."

The grumble that ensued make Zaraki grin. Sometimes, although he and his men got along quiet well, he liked to get them riled up. And this was perfect.

Zaraki had invited one other woman into the Division, some decades ago, Zuko. She was a woman who was a part time Eleventh member yet also a member of the 8th Division as an added help. She traded Divisions from time to time if she were needed or wanted, and she whipped Zaraki's men into shape when he wasn't around. She was a fighter. Zaraki would never have brought this new, petite little kitten into his squad if Zuko hadn't been there to protect her.

The warrior-esque woman Zuko stood not too far off, keeping a watchful yellow eye on the new woman. She watched Zaraki turn and leave, leaving the woman to stand on her own, and how every eye now landed on her petite form.

"Alright boys, you heard him!" she barked at the men, "Get back to training. The Eleventh will still be a unit, you just have a smaller member added."

A man shouted from amidst the crowd, "But she seems barely able to even hold a sword!"

Zuko went to retort, her short wing-like black hair now fluttering in the wind, but she was interrupted.

The woman's voice was not how the men assumed. She poke with a force, a demanding tone that was usually only found in a captains voice. "If you think be unable to pick up a sword, I dare you to fight me bare handed. If I defeat you, you spar with me like civil Swordsman. I doubt I will against you, but I will indeed prove that I am no lower than you."

To some of the men, her speech was confusing, but most understood what she meant. She was asking for a fight. They knew that much. But to fight without a sword? That was just unlike the Eleventh!

"I understand that Hakuda is not a trademark of the Eleventh Division, but it is a test of raw power. How many of you think that your physical strength is greater than mine, _without _a sword?"

Every hand went up. Zuko, calm and immobile in her corner, chuckled.

The woman laughed. It has hardy and true, full of aggressive happiness. "So then," she said, taking off her belt the housed her sheath and laying it on the ground, "who wants to prove it first? Bare handed, one-on-one, mano-a-mano?"

A ripped man, scarred and dirty, emerged from the crowd, shoving past everyone he could manage. He was not exceptionally tall or exceptionally muscular, but the young woman could tell by his eyes that he meant business. "I don't believe in women in this Division," he growled, cracking his knuckles and preparing his muscles, "I only put up with Zuko to please the captain. You don't mess with the Captain's bitch-" Zuko growled from her corner, "-and get away with it. But for you, I'll make no such exception. I'll throw your tight little ass all the way back to the academy."

The young woman stood still. Her cogs were ticking.

"Just for your information," she smiled, "The Captain Commander discovered me for himself. I did not go through the academy, and I am much older than you think I am. I am no child. Captain Yamamoto gave me a Gotei 13 test straight out of District 80 after witnessing me take down three men barehanded. He could find no other place that could hold up with my power, and even though my skill with a sword is not on par with the Eleventh Division, your Captain seems to have found something worth it in me. I don't claim to be the most powerful amongst you, I know I'm not, but how dare you disrespect someone you don't even know? I dare you to try to "kick my tight little ass" anywhere, you fucking brute!"

The man flung himself at her then. She could tell in the millisecond before his hand made contact with her nose that he was inexperienced without a weapon. She heard her nose crack but didn't feel the pain, and retaliated by grabbing his shoulder and slamming it into her kneecap, the resounding snap much more appealing than the one her nose made. Her hands gripped his neck, right below the chin, and she roundhouse-kicked him in the ribs, sending him across the training field. She ran to him quickly. As he stood to get his bearings, her legs both left the ground, and her feet collided with the man's heavy chest, sending both her and him backward in opposite directions. She flipped over herself and landed on her feet like a cat; he on the other hand landed like a limp sack of flour on the wall behind him, sliding down, panting.

She sat there patiently, crouched like a tiger, waiting to see if he wished to continued. His chest rose and fell steadily, but he made no move to rise. She stood up straight, and cautiously walked toward him.

As she stood above, his head rose up to look her in the eyes. His comrades, his allies, they stared at him with amazement at his loss, but he dared not look back at them. He noticed her hand come into his line of sight.

"I could feel your strength," she said, her voice a strangely calming tone, considering the blood that still dripped off her chin from her cracked nose. "Just because I've beaten you in a contest of Hakuda, you _will_ beat me with a sword. I know you will. All I ask is that you respect me. Not as a friend, or a comrade, but as a Division member. I may not belong here. But I am here. I ask for you to deal with it like a gentleman. My name is Tobi."

The man stared Tobi's hand, tattooed with thin lines and designs that made his head spin. It disgusted him to do so, but he took her smaller hand in his own, and she pulled him to his feet; the act surprised him. He looked down at her, her toned, yet unaccustomed arms telling him that he would indeed beat her with a sword. She had no proof of ever training with a sword for too long. No sparring match would prove that fact any more than what already met the eye. But, she _was _strong. Stronger than he was, at least, with her inner Reiryoku.

He didn't say a thing as he walked back into the crowd of Eleventh Division members. He didn't look anyone in the eye, feeling disgusted that he was beaten in physical strength by a woman. But, as he reached the far back of the training field and he was out of sight of most of his comrades, he turned and looked at the girl who would flip his Division upside down.

* * *

** I apologize for it being so severely short, but it is just a short introduction. I thank you so much reading! Reviews will all be read and replied to in thanks.~ Constructive criticism is great, but flames I would like left at home, please. :) **


	2. The Symmetry Of Art and Life

Tobi sat, quite alone, on the front steps to her new Division. She had not seen the man who fought her mere hours ago again, he had hidden from her, or at least avoided. This Division emanated fury at her being around.

She knew that she had to learn to use her sword more efficiently if she were to survive here, but with Zuko transferring Division's all the time, the lover of Kenpachi Zaraki would never have the time to teach her. Captain Zaraki was either sleeping, eating, or training his recruits; he would never give her the time of day, only if she begged and pleaded, and that was below her in every way. Vice Captain Yachiru was a no go; the girl hardly knew how to use her sword any more than Tobi did. Her options were becoming slimmer and slimmer.

The blonde stared out at the street beyond the Eleventh Division. Shinigami were scarce today; it seemed it was a day devoted to training for the entire of the Seireitei. The only souls she saw wandering the streets were various Division members delivering documents. Otherwise, it was desolate.

Her mind reeled in and out of an unconscious pattern of thought related to her life before entering the Academy. Images of old friends, past occupations, things she was proud of and things she was ashamed to admit. It was a chaotic jumble that had no real purpose; just to plague her memories and keep her from living in reality.

She nearly jumped out of her porcelain skin when someone touched her shoulder.

"Easy!" a drawl voice called out.

Ayasegawa Yumichika, the egotistical and narcissistic 5th seat of the Eleventh Division, settled down beside her on the front steps. Tobi knew of this man, the incredibly vain yet flatteringly loyal man who devoted his life to beauty and Captain Zaraki. His beautiful face was twisted in a strange way, his neat hair fluttering feebly in the small breeze. Violet eyes stared straight into her own faded browns as he crossed his legs contentedly.

"You_ would _be beautiful, you know."

Tobi looked at him oddly. What a strange thing to say. "What do you mean?" she asked. She was surprised he was even talking to her. He didn't seem to belong in this Division. He was too beautiful.

The man laughed a little, an airy sound. "I mean," he began, raising a hand to finger a few strands of her bleached blonde hair, "You would be beautiful if you didn't dye your hair and wear contacts in your eyes. I could tell from the moment you looked me in the eye that brown was not your natural iris hue. It's quite unflattering. But your skin is gorgeous."

So he knew…

"I have to do this," she said, turning away from the beautiful man beside her, "I don't like being underestimated because of beauty. I'm small enough as it is, I don't need being beautiful to be against me as well. Men don't respect a beautiful woman. They just want in their pants. My hair and eyes were a distraction."

Yumichika looked at her, a fondness growing in his stare. "That's very brave, discarding beauty for respect… I could never do that."

She shrugged, continuing to stare out at absolutely nothing. It was somewhat beautiful. A still city, a picture. A lifeless yet chaotic photo.

Tobi knew that she was beautiful, she did. In no way was she vain, but no one could deny that her appearance wasn't easy on the eyes. She had a slim face, porcelain skin, full lips, soft, angular nose, and at one time: golden-brown hair, naturally glassy green eyes, but the combination often distracted men from what she wanted them to see.

A fighter.

A voice brought her out of her thought process. "You're not fitting in so well, are you?"

Yumichika and Tobi turned to see Madarame Ikkaku sauntering towards them. The bald 3rd seat had his hand rested inside his uniform, a relaxed look on his face. When Tobi caught his dark eyes, she turned away. She had watched this man train from the moment she arrived in his Division. He was not one to be messed with. Yet his eyes had Tobi reeling.

The man was attractive in his own right, but it wasn't that which made Tobi's heart throb. It was the way he fought. His muscles taught with strength when he brought his blade down. The ripple of energy that ran through his body from his legs to his eyes as he roundhouse swung a new recruit. Tobi was attracted to power. And that man had power…

"Of course I'm not," she answered darkly, Ikkaku's question seeming to be a no-brainer. She shook off the chills his voice had given her. "A Division of brutish men? I'm a five-foot-three woman who can barely use a sword. Who cares if my Reiryoku is above average and I can kick a hole through someone? I won't earn respect around here unless I can slice someone's face in two."

She felt Ikkaku take up the space on her left.

Zaraki's 3rd seat yawned lazily. Tobi saw him stretch his arms above his bald head. She chose not to say anything about the way his smooth scalp shone in the sunlight. "Not all the men here are like that. Just the majority," he said.

Yumichika laughed. "He has a point." His eyes glittered, "Ikkaku and I accepted Zuko a long, long time ago, even before we knew her and Captain Zaraki had a 'thing'. She arrived in the Division just like you did at one point. I believe we could do the same for you."

Tobi thought of Zuko, the six-foot-one warrior-esque amazon, with wide hips, long legs, terrifying bird-like eyes, a powerful Reiatsu on par with Captain Zaraki, and the Swordsmanship of a master. Of course the Division accepted Zuko. She may have been beautiful, but she could tear the entire Division into pieces if she wanted. Tobi couldn't even muster up the_ hope_ that the Eleventh could be so accepting of her. Never in a million years.

Zuko Heng-Bua was a hybrid Chinese/Japanese burlesque dancer while in the Rukongai. Tobi had met the Amazonian one night while passing through the fifty-first district, looking for cheap food and a place to stay for the night . Zuko had taken Tobi in secretly, gave her a room and a good meal, and finally setting the young woman on a course to become a Shinigami. Sadly, Zuko made it to Seireitei before Tobi did, surpassing the Academy, only taking the test to qualify for the Gotei Thirteen, and finding herself square in the Eleventh Division.

No. Tobi could never live up to that.

"Yeah, well, I'm no Zuko," she sighed, resting her slim face on her hand. She knew what the woman was capable of, and Tobi was no where near that yet.

Her face suddenly plummeted towards her knees as her hand was yanked away.

Her hand now resided in Yumichika's palms, his eyes almost watering. He stared at the tattoos that engraved her hands and ran up the length of her arms like melodious diseases. His voice was soft as he spoke. "These are… they're… beautiful."

The expanse of inky Kanji phrases, lines, patterns, designs, and various other symbolic images was a chaotic jumble that somehow managed to have an essence of unity. The tattoos appeared to have been born on her skin, not needled. They looked so cohesive, so beautifully interwoven with each other that they seemed to be alive.

Tobi smiled softly as she watched Yumichika's eyes wander. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ikkaku taking a peek at her free left hand.

"I got them on my travels," she said, "I've been to every district in the Rukongai, to the outskirts of Soul Society; I've been practically everywhere. I always wanted to remember something. This was the best way."

"Aren't they painful?" Yumichika asked, somewhat horrified at how many he was discovering. He had been told they were painful, and she had so many... Ikkaku was now closer to Tobi's left arm, inspecting the tiger that ran along her upper anatomy.

Tobi laughed. "They can be. But it's worth it. You spend your entire life with them. They become a part of you. If you love something enough, you can put up with the pain they cause you at first, because you know of the happiness they'll bring you in the end."

Ikkaku inconspicuously glanced at the small woman respectfully…

"That's very wise, Tobi," Yumichika smiled at her, his white teeth gleaming. And very randomly, "Would you like to come train with us?"

That had Ikkaku up and ready, hand already resting on his Zanpakutou. "I'm down for that idea," he growled, a rumble emanating from his chest, a primal play-time urge rising within him. "I've been itching for a good spar. All I've had today were wimpy recruits."

"If you hadn't slept in so late you could have caught Captain Zaraki before he went off with lady Zuko." Yumichika gleamed as Ikkaku growled.

Tobi laughed at the two men and stood cautiously. This was her chance, but asking two strangers to teach her in the ways of the sword was a hard thing to do. She was in no way a shy individual, but with this… she felt like a child.

She cleared her throat to get their attention. Both men turned their eyes on her.

"I have a favour to ask…" she said quietly, figuring out how to word her question properly, "I was wondering if… well, if you had any spare time, you could maybe… well, teach me how to fight with a sword… better than I can. Which isn't the greatest…"

Yumichika smiled a small bit, his eyes softening, but Ikkaku narrowed his eyes and his jaw set. Yumichika went to reply, but was interrupted.

"You think you could handle _me_?" he asked, "I'd teach you. But I wont go easy on you. That's not my style. If you learned from me, you'd be leaving with a good few more scars than you started with."

Tobi grinned. "I'm ready for that. I wouldn't expect anything less. I'd be in your debt."

Ikkaku grinned widely. The young woman had serious spunk.

* * *

Tobi didn't expect to have the training grounds empty.

As she, Yumichika, and Ikkaku ventured to the Eleventh grounds, they were surprised to notice only two figures on the torn-apart turf. Zaraki and Zuko were standing in positions of aggression, yet on their faces were brilliant smiles. Strangely, they were not barbaric, feral smiles that Zaraki usually boasted. They were smiles of mischief and playful ambition.

Tobi heard Ikkaku whisper, "Watch this!"

As soon as the words left his mouth Zuko ripped across the field, her slim, perfectly silver Zanpakutou ramming itself into Zaraki's damaged and bruised, nameless sword. The emerging sound was a metallic cry, the scream of a iron raven. There was a strange unison painted in the way Zuko's yellow eyes flickered and Zaraki's Reiatsu flared. It was like his power and hers were one, a cohesive entity in two bodies. As they fought, their opposite swords clashing like old rivals, their eyes never left each other. Zaraki put it all on the table; he wasn't holding back, even if the woman he was fighting was _his _woman. He fully intended to land a hit on her, to tear her flesh apart. She was no different than anyone else he fought.

Tobi saw that as a real relationship. She envied the way the two slashed at each other, fully intending to break the other person, yet both knowing that after the battle is over their wounds were wounds of love. The pain wound be over quickly once the fight was over.

Zuko was winded as the spar dwindled to a finish. Both she and Zaraki were fully capable of continuing, but as they noticed more and more Division members eagerly waiting for the sparring grounds, they stopped. They said nothing as they parted ways; their fight said it all. That was there way of saying _I Love You._

Tobi smiled as the fight finished. She seemed to be the only one besides the two men beside her who even noticed the symmetry that had just been witnessed.

"That was incredible…" she swooned quietly.

"That's hardly much compared to what they usually do," Yumichika sighed, "They do a lot of intense fighting during the night hours. It's a brilliant show to see his Reiatsu flicker with her movements. Pure grace."

Tobi snickered. "I would never expect a fight that Zaraki Kenpachi was a part of to be even the slightest bit graceful."

Suddenly Tobi was reeled around. Ikkaku stood before her, surrounded by his division members, but staring at her. She drew her sword shakily, like a new born calf about to walk on new legs. This was not her forte; slashing and cutting was so much different than bruising and breaking with fists and roundhouse kicks.

"You ready?" Ikkaku asked?

"As I'll ever be," she said.

* * *

**Another short-ish chapter, I'm sorry! But at least I updated. I promise there will be more.. interesting? things coming next time. I hope to update sometime this week. I hope you enjoyed the chapters, and thank you to my reviewers:**

_** Kathalla**_  
_**FallenAngelFox**_  
_**cannibal-peach**_

**You make me smile, grasshoppers! **


	3. Gateway To The Soul

First Day: Tobi was cut by Ikkaku's sword not three minutes in to his training. The afternoon sun shone upon her blood. Training ended after five minutes.

Third Day: Tobi is slashed after ten minutes. Ikkaku notices her stance is awkward. The sword doesn't seem to mesh with Tobi's fingers.

First Week: Tobi was cut after half an hour of frantic evasion. Almost landed a hit on her bald companion, but ended up on the ground at the end. Her technique is atrocious.

Second Week: Ikkaku works on her skill; the sword feels better in her grip now. She is no longer shaking as she holds. Her fluidity still needs great work. The sword is not yet an extension of her body.

Third Week…

Tobi lay, bushed, on the training grounds, back against the night-chilled earth. The navy blue night sky above her sparkled with stars like glow-worms, the moon sending strands of silken light against Tobi's harsh cheekbones; the flesh on her bones was milky white and smooth. Her chest rose and sunk with an even, fast paced rhythm, sword abandoned yards away. Ikkaku Madarame stood above her.

His eyes were narrowed as he grinned down at her savagely, his own sword slung over his shoulder, bloodied. A long slash ran across his protégé's stomach, yet she wasn't seething with pain. She was making progress. Cuts didn't make her flinch so badly anymore.

The men treated her just as badly as when she arrived.

There were days when Tobi went hungry, missing meals do to fear of venturing into the kitchen of the Eleventh Division. Ikkaku had started bringing her bowls of rice while no one was looking. He was afraid she would pass out when he trained her. No use in a malnourished student. She slept in a room with another of the Division members, an openly gay man who gave her the same time of day as the rest of the men; none.

"I think we're done for the night," Ikkaku laughed down at her. "I have to admit though; you're getting better. It took me a few hours to cut you this time. Now I'm just waiting for _you_ to cut _me_."

The woman on the ground said nothing, just grinned while she panted like a sweating dog. Her blond faux-hawk was splayed on the ground around her head, her blood staining the grass beneath her.

Ikkaku noticed that Tobi ventured away from the Division almost every night around midnight; she claimed for an evening stroll to help her sleep. So, he agreed to train her in the darkness hours of night. She was alert and resourceful when the moon was up. If it was easier and took less time to teach her in the moonlight, he would do it. He may be losing sleep, but the less time this took the better.

Tobi felt something warm touch her wounded stomach.

Ikkaku was kneeled beside her. He applied a thin layer of his blood clotting ointment to the laceration he gave her. He couldn't help noticing how many scars she had that _he hadn't _given her. Small, thin scars. Long, thick scars. For a woman who claimed to have little experience with swords, she sure seemed to have been exposed to their wrath. Or something else sharp…

"They're from my childhood," the woman beneath him said. He looked into her contact-covered eyes, the dull brown so dark at night they looked black. "You may think they're scars of hatred but they're not. My past is not something I like to talk about, but it most certainly wasn't full of hatred. These are scars of love. If you can understand that."

Ikkaku stared. He wouldn't pretend to understand. He just stared. And suddenly he said:

"You wanna go for a walk?"

The woman smiled lightly, lifting her torso off the ground. Her hair was a bedraggled mess and uniform dirty, but she smiled and agreed.

The early morning darkness was cool as the two walked along the streets of Seireitei. It was moments like these where Tobi missed the banks of the seas, the grasses of Rukongai, the outskirts, the open air and the freedom. This walled in city was calm enough, but wandering the open spaces for years takes its toll on a woman, and as she looked around her at the surrounding shops, the barracks, the walls, her heart palpably sunk.

"I miss my old life," she whispered, her voice as husky as the coming dawn. They hadn't slept all night, training into the wee hours instead of resting for the coming day. That was how she had always been, an owl when it came to feeling the best at night-time. She was a nocturnal creature; her best came out in the darkness. "To tell you the truth, I miss roaming aimlessly. I may have had no destination most of the time, but at least I knew that in the end, I would end up somewhere. Here… it just feels like I'm running in an endless circle with a sword at my waist."

Ikkaku laughed.

He had been watching Tobi by request of Zuko for the past week. The Amazonian asked him to keep an eye on her, to make sure she wouldn't be taken advantage of by the other men. Yet, it seemed he didn't have to watch her. There were many a time when he noticed one of his comrades sneak in an ass-tap, a wolf whistle, a flirtatious wink. Yet every time the young woman would brush it off, ignore it, or kick them as hard as she could. Ikkaku knew Tobi didn't need a watchful eye. All she needed was a mentor.

"I hadn't intended to be living this life when I was growing up either," he said absently. "Only when Kenpachi kicked my ass did I strive to be a Shinigami; to follow in his footsteps and die under his command. That's my goal. "

Tobi sneaked a glance at her bald companion; his eyes were distant yet calm. He had told her about his past, his meeting Yumichika and being defeated by Captain Zaraki. His life seemed oddly similar to her own, a life of searching for something (him, he would do anything for a good fight; her, she would do anything for a pretty penny), but they were also very, very different. While he strived for power, she strived for an honest living, something she never seemed to accomplish; she usually ended up doing something seedy, sleazy. Not until now.

"I was so used to seeing the moon above me every night," Tobi sighed. "Here, the buildings block it from view."

Ikkaku stopped walking.

"Not from everywhere," he said.

He took her hand then; his fingers were calloused with years of brutal training, but his grip was soft, forgiving. Unexpected. Tobi was shocked when he dragged her away like a rag doll, past the barracks of their Division and deep into the alleys that weaved like snakes through the entirety of Seireitei. The air was brisk and cool, it threaded through her hair like fingers as he lead her to beyond where she had ever gone.

She'd had no reason to venture into the obscure alleys of Seireitei; behind the barracks, shadowy shortcuts to places. Tobi preferred to stay on the road most travelled. There was no chance of getting lost on a road everyone took.

Surprisingly, in these dark and twisted lines, she felt at home. It reminded her of the nights in the Districts of Rukongai, the forbidding aura of something about to pop out at you. It was slightly exhilarating.

And suddenly it was over. She was no longer in the alleys, but had been swept away by shunpo, onto a low section of the Sekkiseki wall, and above her, the shining visage on the lady moon herself.

It wasn't just the light that reached her eyes now, but the full on brightness and exuberance of the lunar goddess of the night, her craters a familiar sight to Tobi's eyes. Tobi's contact covered eyes…

Ikkaku was stumped. He saw Tobi in full on moonlight, all of her features, but all he wanted was for her to take her contacts out of her eyes. It was a strange thought, but it was an all consuming need, like when he was ready to finish off an enemy, a need to see bloodshed. He wanted to see what those eyes, those eyes that stared at him like a tiger while he taught her, really looked like. And in this light, the fake brown they were was just pissing him off.

"Take them out," he said.

Tobi, transfixed at the moon above her, hardly noticed her companion speak until his hand was concretely placed on her shoulder. She stared at him for a moment before registering, and shook her head. "No."

"Why not?"

"You know why. I don't need any more hindrances to my success. I'm not taking them out."

"I'm not like them. I just want to see what color they really are. I don't know why. I just do. Take them out."

"And what will you do if I don't?"

"I'll make you."

Tobi smirked like a fox. "Oh yeah? I dare you to try."

Ikkaku grinned like a wolf. "Fine. I'll give you a head start. Three, two, one-"

And she was gone.

The head start was a bad idea, Ikkaku realised, when he lost her in the back alleys. She was faster than him; a trait that comes with being small. But it wasn't long before she was playing games with him. She would whip around a corner, and he would come so close to catching her he could feel her perpetually minty breath on his fingers. She would tug on the back of his shihakusho, make a circle around him like a playful kitten, but her mistake was made too late; her uniform (which had been modified to have shorter hakama, and the arms were chopped off) fluttered very much when she ran. It fluttered enough for him to grab the back of her kosode top and yank her onto the alley ground.

She was pinned beneath him, giggling like a maniac. Ikkaku was smiling brilliantly; it had been a while since he'd horsed around like this. Sure, messing with the guys, acting like an idiot to blow off steam, but not, in a very long time, had he genuinely _played. _She was something else, this woman; a powerhouse when it came to physical strength, but within her resided a need let go.

Ikkaku was a little winded when he spoke.

"I win," he said through breaths, "So. Take them out."

Still laughing, Tobi opened her eyes and stared at the man above her with the most serious glare she could manage. "You don't like the brown?" she asked insincerely, "I feel offended, mister! You must accept me for who I am! Oh teacher, please don't make me do it! I'll do anything for an A, but please sir, don't make me reveal myself to you!"

Ikkaku rolled his eyes. "Come on," he said, urging her. He had his hands on either side of her ribcage, touching her sides, her arms freely splayed against the alley ground. "I want to see them. Just take them out for a minute. You promised if I caught you, you would."

Tobi sighed. "You're no fun." But, her hands slid to her face, to her eyes, and Ikkaku watched as her fingertips invaded onto the surface of her orbs, sliding the coloured discs from her irises. She blinked rapidly before staring up into the light above them. But Ikkaku was shocked by what he saw.

She told him they were green. And they were. But beneath that green was something red, and undertone of bloody maroon. Two separate colours; they didn't blend together, they were two layers of colour, green above red.

"Why is there red in them?" he asked. Her eyes widened.

"Red?" She sat up like lightning, knocking him on his backside in front of her. "What do you mean. Is it still there?"

It wasn't. They were now a faded olive green, a pretty colour. What she told him.

"No…" he said.

Tobi sighed. But her eyes stared at him. He felt self conscious under her glare. It seemed she was looking into him, rather than at him. Into his soul. "What?"

"… Nevermind."

Ikkaku blinked. He was silent. He silence just made him twitchy. His mind was even blank. He was overtired. She sensed it.

"Wanna go?" she said quietly.

Ikkaku stood. His body ached with lack of sleep; this woman would be the death of him. Tobi reinstated her contacts into her eyes and stood as well, her stature very inglorious next to his height.

"Thanks," she said, "I'm sorry for keeping you up, I know it must be getting to you."

He shrugged for an answer. He didn't feel like talking anymore. Really, he wanted to go kill something. Lack of sleep effected him badly. But, deep inside his hollow, bloodied heart, he wanted to make sure that this little woman could handle herself. The better she could wield a weapon the less he would have to protect her from sharp edges. Her kicks would be nothing against a sword.

They walked back to the barracks in silence, the darkness seeping away into emerging dawn. The quiet burned Tobi's ears. Usually she liked the silence, but after three weeks of living with brutish men, silence was rare. This was foreign. She had no idea that an Eleventh Division member could stay quiet for so long. Or be lost for words. Ever.

They reached they're barracks smoothly, both yawning now. They were contagious things, Ikkaku first and Tobi following suit, enough times that both had to laugh at themselves. Tobi's laugh was full and smooth. Ikkaku's was round and hearty. And the both hesitated before the gates.

"I don't really want to go back in to tell the truth," Tobi sighed, "No use really. It's already tomorrow. Or today… however you want to look at it."

Ikkaku shrugged again. He was too tired to wait for her to make a decision, so his legs did the talking and worked him into the barracks. Tobi sighed heavily and followed.

Ikkaku's room was the first they reached. His hand was on the handle of the door, ready to slide it open, when he noticed Tobi stall. She had slowed, not enough to stop, but it seemed as if the dark hallway before her was foreboding. She had one hand on the hilt of her sword, eyes staring straight ahead into the darkness. She was afraid.

"No one's going to jump out an get you, ya know," he said, watching her on edge, "They're too lazy, the bastards. And anyway, you need sleep. You're gonna train with us guys tomorrow. I want you somewhat rested. Go on."

He nudged her forward with his fingers, felt her tense muscles, and she took two shaky steps forward. "I don't like walking down here in the dark," she said tragically, her eyes wide, "I love the dark, but there is something about this hallway at night… I don't even really remember how to get to my room more often that not, especially in the dark. And my roommate hates me. I've never met such an angry homosexual. And I have many homosexual friends. None like him."

Ikkaku stared at her. She liked to ramble. He sighed. If he didn't want to deal with a zombie the following day, he would have to offer something.

"Do you want to crash on the floor in my room?"

She looked at him quickly, and back down the hall. Nodding her head, she followed him in like a cat, sliding the door closed at tightly as she could possibly get it. As she turned around to be fully inside his bedroom, a feather pillow was chucked at her face, followed suit by a blanket. "The floor's all yours." her companion said.

"You're such a gentleman," Tobi growled playfully as she watched Ikkaku drop onto his futon, uniform still on. No use changing clothes when two hours later they would have to be changed again.

Ikkaku opened one eye and looked her dead on, but there was a wolfish gleam within it. "Hey, you're in the Eleventh, babe. Getting the privilege to sleep on the floor of someone else's room in the first month is an honour. Usually, a recruit sleep outside."

"Why?"

"The dirt ground is better than being smothered in your sleep."

* * *

**I hope this was somewhat satisfactory; I'm trying to climb upwards to a friendship, but I can't just... jump there, can I? I hope it wasn't too boring. Enjoy! _And Thank you to my reviewers!_**

_ **Kathalla**_  
_**1iloveaustralia**_  
_**Kira michi **_


	4. Friendship Starts Off With Shots

**I apologize for the late post. Been busy! All of this is a lead up to greater things, so bear with my little lead ups. hope this is entertaining enough. :)**

* * *

"She's like a fucking infant with a sword. Tell me again why I recruited her?"

"She has raw power; isn't that what your application form says? Guys who can fight? Well, she can fight. Just not with a sword. Yet."

Zaraki was slacking off. Again. He lounged in a large chair behind his desk, arms behind his head, completely ignoring the piles of paperwork before him. Instead, his ever-present Zuko had her nose buried in documents, deciding it would be best to do her hubby's job for him rather than be blamed for it not being finished in the end.

"She's a very good fighter, Kenpachi," she said, her black mop of hair popping out of a pile of papers, yellow eyes patronizing, "And with Ikkaku training her, she'll be a great addition; she's spunky but level headed, she could be of good use. Ikkaku trained Renji, and look how he turned out. Have patience."

Zaraki snorted. He opened his eyes into green slits, to stare at the black-clad women doing his job. He felt somewhat guilty, but not enough to get up and help her. Not his style. "The men don't like her."

Zuko looked directly at him, a small smirk on her full lips. "They didn't like me either," she grinned, "But once they knew I was able to whip their asses, respect was followed by friendship. Once you slit their faces open, they consider you a pal. She'll get there. YOU just have to have some God. Damn. Patience."

He shrugged and leaned forward. "You know, you'd be a sexy librari-"

Scampering was heard behind him and a pink-headed Yachiru bombarded his head with giggles and the smell of candies.

"Whatchu doin'?" she asked cheerily, looking down at her adoptive-father and to her self appointed step-mother, "Kenny! You're not making Mama-chan do all the work again are you!"

Zuko withheld a laugh as Zaraki sighed. There was a dirty joke in their somewhere that she caught on to but he didn't.

"No, I'm not making her do all the work-" he noticed it and scoffed, "She chose to. And I don't see you doing any of yours either."

Zuko stomped a foot on the floor. "And like hell if I'm doing both of your paperworks! Yachiru, go and see how Tobi is doing. She had a day to train with Ikkaku and the men today. Go check. See if she's still in one piece."

Yachiru jumped down onto the floor and scurried into Zuko's legs, looking up into the woman's yellow eyes with mischief, "And what's in it for me?"

Zuko help out a little bag of sweets. Yachiru was gone in a flash.

It didn't the pink-wonder very long to find the newcomer. Just as Yachiru made her way onto the training grounds, a blond blur was sent flying behind her. Yachiru waved as the blond rag doll hit the ground, calling out a greeting to Tobi as she did so. Tobi lifted her head high enough off the dusty ground to give the pink-headed monster a polite smile.

"Get out of the way, Lieutenant Yachiru!" one of the men yelled from across the grounds.

Yachiru jumped out of the way of a crashing blow from one of her Division members, aimed at Tobi behind her. The blond rolled away, nimbly getting to the balls of her feet like a cat. Her sword was clutched in one of her hands. She no longer shook. And her stance was steady.

"A cheap shot!" she yelled, adjusting her position which was low and intimidating, "Aiming at a foe who is down. I call shenanigans on improper sparring etiquette."

Her answer was in the form of a lanky but muscular man bringing down his rusted sword upon her own. Due to her strength, holding him back was nothing, but his swordsplay outdid her own; she hardly knew half of the moves he made, and she barely dodged when he lifted his sword and swung it around to catch her ribcage. The dusty ground was beginning to soil her shihakusho, and her hair was a mess.

Ikkaku stood off to the side, grinning like a maniac. The image of one of his comrades and his protégé flinging themselves around, a brutal dance number, was entertaining to say the least.

Tobi was out of breath. Her arms were tired; her fluidity may have improved, but her stamina whilst wielding a weapon was still a tad shoddy. The man before her, on the other hand, was nothing close to tired out. He swung and lunged, one after the other, keeping the blond on her toes. But then something spectacular happened.

Very quickly, the mans arms swung above him, preparing for a vital decent upon Tobi's shoulder. Tobi's eyes widened, and then something clicked; like a primal instinct, her shoulders unlocked from their frozen position, her arms swung out from her solid body, and her sword became one with her spirit. She felt the blade of her sword slice into the man's underarm and across his chest.

The man went rigid, his sword still above his head. His eyes looked down in astonishment. She had cut him. She had cut him _badly. _All of the men around them were silent. The blood trickled down off the man's shihakusho and into the dust below them. He looked at her with a glimmer of something in his eyes before dropping to his knees.

Was that respect?

Tobi was shocked. That was new. After 4 weeks of intense midnight brawling and thousands of nicks and cuts later, she had landed a blow on an Eleventh Division member. She was fully prepared to calmly celebrate her inner victory quietly, but her body said otherwise.

"Yes!" she yelled to the sky. She jumped up and down like a child, her blond hair bouncing. "I did it! Oh yeah! Hah!"

Slowly she calmed down and stared around her nervously; the men around her were staring, either about her victory or her strange celebration dance. Either way, it was making Tobi nervous. Until somebody clapped.

Zaraki stood on the back entrance to the Division barracks, leaning against a pole, clapping. Zuko stood next to him, smiling brilliantly. "I told you she could do it," she said to the monstrous man beside her. Yachiru was not far off, bouncing up and down, giggling like mad at the sight of blood.

"I like seeing improvement," Zaraki drawled, "but you're nowhere near good enough yet. That's a good cut, but it took you too long. Take this from me; you either learn to land a hit first try, or be prepared to die where you stand. Got it?"

Tobi nodded towards her captain, still self conscious about the men's eyes on her back. "Thank-you, Captain."

Zaraki went to leave, Zuko already withdrawn back inside, but he stalled and turn back around. "Good job, Ikkaku!" he yelled.

Zuko stood in the middle of Zaraki's office, watching her man walk in like a lazed tiger. "I told you so," she nagged.

Her smirk irked him. Zaraki walked past her, mischievously snatching a pat on her muscular behind.

Zuko growled playfully.

"You done of my paperwork yet? I need to go take a bath."

"I can't believe I did it!"

Tobi twirled down the streets of Seireitei, earning herself strange stares and laughter at her expense, but she cared not. She had cut an Eleventh Division member! This would be a day she would never forget. Deep inside, there was a little pang of something.

Pride. Oh, joyous pride!

Ikkaku and Yumichika walked along behind her; Ikkaku was pretending not to know her, Yumichika smiling at her wistfully.

"I'm proud of her," Yumichika said, "Was it tough training?"

Ikkaku snorted, "Like pulling teeth. The only way I could train her was to train her at night; it's like she's a fucking owl."

Yumichika laughed. "I'm sure it wasn't that bad. She's done very well. Four and a half weeks and she's landed a blow on Kurama. Sooner or later she's going to land a hit on _you_. I can feel it. I have faith in that girl. Such a beautiful girl…"

Ikkaku said nothing, just watched as Tobi scampered down the street. Free spirits like her often made him want to vomit. Tobi, she wasn't too bad.

Especially when she wanted to go drink.

"We should go to the bar," Tobi said suddenly, turning right around to look at her two friends. Her eyes were glassy with enthusiasm. "I really need something to calm me down, and at the same time something to celebrate. Please!"

Ikkaku grinned widely, but Yumichika denied the offer. Too much to do and too little time.

"Suit yourself," Ikkaku said, "I'm down for a few drinks."

Zaraki prepared himself for his nightly bath, tense from a day full of nothing. His morning was sparring with some recruits. His afternoon was nap-filled. His evening was watching Zuko do paperwork. He was bushed.

Zuko sat contentedly on Zaraki's futon, watching him gather his towel and bath supplies. His shirt was off, and his muscles rippled as he moved. Pleasant sight.

He looked over his shoulder at the woman before leaving. "You wanna come?" His eyes were naughty.

She smiled.

"Sake, please! A bottle!"

A contest. Ikkaku and Tobi sat at the counter of the nearest bar, side by side, each with five shot glasses in front of them. Who could stay sober the longest while taking continuous shots of sake? Only time would tell.

The bottle was placed before them, and Ikkaku did the honours of pouring it into each of their glasses. The clear liquid was inviting after a full day of fighting. Tobi's mouth watered.

"One,"

"Two,"

"Three!"

Both downed the 5 little glasses before them. Their throats burned, a buzz in their minds. They looked at each other, sensing sobriety, and did it all over again.

"Not here!"

"Yes here!"

_Splash!_

"Zaraki!"

Laughter, silence… moaning.

The contest was over, ending with Tobi's head rested comfortably as possible on the bar counter, and Ikkaku splayed like a limp doll over his chair.

"Still sober?" he asked, his voice slurred, but with his years of experience, he was no where near the point of no return.

Tobi nodded, murmuring a positive reply. "Can we go home now?"

He nodded, invisible to her eyes.

Zuko lay on Zaraki's futon, in nothing but a black yukata, black hair splayed on the white sheets, watching Zaraki walk around the room like a hungry lion. "You done pacing?"

He looked her dead in the eye. "I don't think she's gonna make it. That Tobi chick. Yeah. She's getting better. But… I don't know if I can afford to have her around."

Zuko rolled her eyes. "Well, then. Stop complaining. If you want to see how much improvement is going on, fight her yourself. At least then you can determine her strength for yourself instead of complaining. So, stop it, and come here."

Zaraki smirked. "I can deal with that plan."

Ikkaku and Tobi made it to the Eleventh's barracks safely yet slowly. Neither were plastered, or hammered, rather so tired and groggy that the knees jointing their legs together gave out every few steps. Ikkaku's arm was perpetually slid underneath Tobi's ribs to keep her upright, even though he himself was possibly worse off than she was. Yawning and giggling with the after effects of alcohol, they stumbled into Ikkaku's room.

Tobi was glad to let herself drop to the floor like a sack of flour, her head bouncing off the wood, but she barely noticed. Ikkaku tried to make it to his own futon, but decided it was easier to do as his comrade had done; monkey see, monkey do.

Tobi breathed in whistles before she said anything, laughing at her sounds, "Well, that was fun." More giggling.

Ikkaku sighed, his body limp beside her, "Yeah… I haven't drank like that in a while. You can drink pretty well for a woman."

Tobi smiled. "I'll take that as a compliment. Oh, hey!"

"Yeah?"

"Does this make us friends?"

Ikkaku looked to the side. Tobi eyes were closed, her breathing still uneven. Even through his slight stupor, he could see what answer she wanted.

"Yeah. Yeah, it does."

* * *

**Thank you very much to the two reviewers of the last chapter:**

**_brainfear_**  
**_1iloveaustralia_**

**I appreciate the reviews very very much! **


	5. Silence

***makes blubbering noises* I apologize a thousand times for not updating! I've been having a fair few family problems, and with the holidays, I was busy beyond belief. I really hope none of you have given up on me, and that this chapter suffices for my lack of updating D: PLEASE ENJOY! Give it a shot, please :) I worked pretty hard on this one.**

**I'm sorry D: **

And Thank you to** KIRA MICHI, BRAINFEAR, SPINWITCH**, and **1ILOVEAUSTRALIA** for the reviews :D I read every one.

* * *

Deep in Rukongai, unseen by wandering villagers, a shadowy figure stood in an alleyway, black cloak covering all but their eyes which were a shocking and vibrant electric blue. The skin around their beautiful eyes was pale and sickly, the only skin showing in the dim, dank light in the alley. Their fingers twitched; in their gloved hands was a photo.

It was of a girl, young and beautiful, with brilliantly golden-brown hair, shocking blood-red eyes and pale white skin, sitting in front of an intimidating, glowing-red man with stripes like a tiger and a gravity defying hairdo like a Mohawk Indian. The man and young girl had their arms stretched out to their sides, showing off their muscles like old friends. The shadowy figure crumbled the photo in his fist.

Suddenly a few young scrappers found themselves stumbling into the dark figure's alley, laughing, until they saw the cloaked person before them.

"Hey you!" one shouted, "Wanna fight!" They were all young men with young minds.

They took sure-footed steps towards the figure. It said nothing, only stared at them coldly with it's intense eyes. "Hey, we're talking to you!" he yelled again.

One of the young men ran forward and landed a fist on the figure's shoulder. The figure looked directly into the scruffy scrapper's dull and lifeless eyes and grabbed his arm with an intensity like an iron clasp. With one swift motion, the young man was thrown to the ground with a ferocity of a tiger behind the figure, the ground cracking where the young man's body now lay limp, broken.

The remaining young men growled and rushed forward to attack the cloaked person, but they all met the same fate, some with crushed ribs, others with smashed faces, even one young man with his arm snapped in half. The dark figure stared at his prey writhing on the ground like maggots.

It looked down at the crumpled photo in it's fist and scowled. "Here I come."

* * *

Tobi wandered the streets of Seireitei on her own, forced out of the Eleventh Division due to a day devoted to paperwork. After months of slacking off, the Eleventh Division had been forced to spend this day on getting up to date, and as the newest recruit, Tobi was expelled from the duties. So, she was utterly alone on this day of "catching up".

She hummed as she walked, dragging her sword at her waist like a limp extra appendage. It was quite lonely, the streets more barren then ever, and she couldn't help but feel the slightest bit… useless? Was that it? Unwanted? No.

More like nonexistent.

Picked off the streets like rats for cat food, she wasn't known around Seireitei, she had never graced the Academy halls, hell, not even the pub owner knew her name yet. Every Shinigami she could think of had at least one person whom they had known almost their entire, lengthy lives. But not Tobi. The closest she had was Zuko, the woman who housed her, fed her, and then let her go like a wounded bird completely healed.

It was times like these that Tobi wished Zuko had just let her broken wings crumble and kept her as a disabled pet. She would have felt more loved that way.

Tobi hopped the steps towards her favourite, and possibly only, secluded spot in Seireitei, a garden rarely used by the Shinigami, and almost forgotten. It was no where near the beautiful places she had seen on her travels, but the meagre flowers, muddled grassy areas and small pond were good enough for her. It seems the good gardens were reserved for the Royal Families, those conceited Shinigami.

Tobi was shocked to see Zuko standing alone before the small pond, her back to the blond. Her sword was buried into the ground, standing upright like a beaconing flagpole waiting to be throw like a javelin. It seemed to quiver.

Zuko's head barely even twitched when Tobi spoke."Shouldn't you be helping out with paperwork? Hell knows Zaraki will never finish if you aren't helping him."Tobi laughed lightly, but Zuko did not. Tobi's contacted eyes narrowed; Zuko never let down a chance to make fun of her man, no matter the circumstances. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Zuko's shoulders slumped, the Amazon letting out a forlorn sigh. She put her palm on the tip of her swords handle, gripping it firmly.

"I have… I'm not sure, but I have a bad feeling about something," she said, turning around slowly so her yellow eyes burned into Tobi's soul. They had a way of doing that; yellow like the fire that burned within her heart. "It just feels like something isn't quite right. Like the earth is off balance or something.""That sounds very hippy-ish, Zuko," Tobi joked.

Zuko scowled. "Very funny. I'm serious, you dolt."

Tobi sat herself down on the flat grass and sighed, her blond mop limp. She rested her sword snugly in her lap. She was silent for a long time before asking, "What's wrong with your Zanpakuto?"

The katana under Zuko's palm was still quivering like a shivering child.

"That's another thing," Zuko said, "Karasuaii hasn't spoken to me in days. His blade is dull, he's become heavy in my hands, and I barely even feel his presence anymore. There is something wrong, Tobi."

A Sword Spirit who's presence wasn't felt by it's master? How odd. "I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation," Tobi insisted."And how is Kosshizu?"

Kosshizu, Tobi's blade… She had been so caught up in her new life lately that her sword had become less of a partner and more of a tool. She had forgotten about her other half. "I haven't really pain any attention, really. But now that you mention it, he's gone quiet as well. I don't feel him at all."

Zuko made a noise of resentment, falling into an Indian style seating position. She sighed, "What does this mean? Do you think it's happening to anyone else?" "I don't think so. I hear Ikkaku talking to Hozukimaru all of the time, even though he tries to hide it."

They both went silent. The breeze picked up, blowing around stray flower petals from the meagre daisies, casting shallow shadows on the ground near Tobi's knees.

_Talk to me, Kosshi_… Tobi thought, _Let me know you're still here._

They looked into each other's eyes then, faked brown into violent yellow.

Zuko slammed her fist on the ground: "It couldn't be-"Tobi stood up as fast as her legs would allow: "You don't think-"

Suddenly they stopped. And laughed.

"No, that can't be it."

* * *

Ikkaku strayed from his duties, lounging on the low wall of his Division, lazy as he ever was, but this was nothing unusual. The sun was too warm, the breeze too cool, the day too nice for him to spend it doing work.

But it didn't last for long.

His bubble-gum headed Lieutenant hopped onto his chest like a rabid feline, staring into his lifeforce with her brown, googly-eyes. "WAKE UP PACHINKO-HEAD!" she yelled.

He sighed and shoved the little pink wonder off of him, attempting to regain his naptime, but she weaseled back up and sat on him. Spitting on her hand, she rubbed her saliva on his bald head, shining it like a bowling ball so it glinted in the sunlight. "Look, Baldy!" she giggled, "You're shiny!"

Ikkaku growled. "What do you WANT, Yachiru?"

"Nothing."

"Then why are you here?""Mama-chan said she would take me out. But she's not here. And Kenny is busy.""And what do you want with me?""…."

"… WHAT!""Find Mama-chan.""Find Zuko?"She leapt away and scoured a corner, out of sight. He sighed.

* * *

"So, if they don't start to act normally again soon, we'll consult him. But ONLY if they don't respond to us in the next few-"

Ikkaku barged into the Eleventh training grounds which were empty and lonesome; aside from the two female members.

"There you are," Ikkaku growled, tired and angry, addressing Zuko like a lost piece of food. "Yachiru is looking for you everywhere, and wont stop pestering me until she gets you."Zuko and Tobi sat on the dusty ground, their conversation cut short by their bald friend's entrance. Zuko sighed and stood quietly, glancing down at Tobi with a knowing stare. "See you later," she said.

Tobi nodded. "See you."

"So," Ikkaku said as Zuko left, brushing past him like a disconnected ghost, "I feel like I interrupted something."Tobi grinned. "Nothing too important." She stood upa nd dusted her bottom half off with her pale and spindly hakuda hands. Calluses were finally starting to form on her hands from training, but no where near the grip and power of man before her. "I've been giving this some thought. Are you busy tonight?"

Ikkaku shook his head and cracked his shoulders. "Good. I've been given permission to travel to Rukongai," Tobi sniffed, "and retrieve some things that were left behind when Yamamoto brought me here. It was a quick move, so many of my things were forgotten in a hotel I was staying at. Would you want to come with me? He said I can't go alone; bad Shinigami behaviour. Doesn't want me going rogue, yah know?"

Her words were asking of him nothing more than a simple companionship, a two-by-two trip to Rukongai, but her eyes said something else; more along the lines of "Please come with me, I'll be lonely if you don't." They were dull and slightly lifeless, like something was bothering her more than she let on, and Ikkaku wasn't as dense as he seemed. He could tell she was bothered. By what, he wasn't sure.

"Yeah," he said nonchalantly, "I've got nothing better to do."She smiled widely, her canines shining, "Great!"

* * *

Zuko slumped in Zaraki's chair in his office, shoulders low, guard completely off. Her mind reeled, the silence inside her head beginning to tear her apart. The muscles in her stomach were churning. Without her Sword Spirit, the Zanpakutou at her hip would be nothing but a simple katana. Sure, she could kick most Shinigami ass with a butter knife, but her reputation would be soured for eternity.

Her pink lieutenant sat in her lap quietly, humming contentedly, playing with the jangling gold bracelets on her "Mama-chan's" wrists. Her big brown eyes were narrowed happily, completely unaware of Zuko's inner musings.

Zuko pushed aside her misfortune to pick up a pile of unfinished documents. Well, everything in the Eleventh Division was unfinished. Nothing ever got done.

"Would you mind going to get Kenpachi?" Zuko asked Yachiru, "He needs to finish this. Go get him and I'll spend the entire evening with you when all of this is done with."

Yachiru smiled and complied, jogging out of the room to find her surrogate father. Zuko watched her leave with a heaved sigh.

"If you don't start talking to me soon," she said to the silent sword, "I'll start talking to myself… Oh look, I've already started. Lord help me…"

* * *

The sun was starting to set, the autumn air brisk and the leaves on the trees turning colour. Tobi and Ikkaku exited Seireitei through the North gate.

"I used to lodge at a dingy hotel in 76th District," Tobi said absently as she rifled through a satchel at her waist. She picked out a gunmetal canteen and took a long swig, "The place was dirty and bad, but it was better than sitting out of the streets. I'd been in a bad situation before the Captain Commander found me. I was down and out."

Ikkaku sniffed at the canteen in her hands. It was strong and alcoholic. "What the hell is in there!" he asked, the smell burning his nose.

She grinned, a hop in her step as they strode down a dirt road, "It's a mixture of vodka, cranberry juice and blueberry juice. My Dad used to give it to me when I was younger to keep me awake. I guess I just got a taste for it."Ikkaku made a face, "Sounds disgusting.""Wanna try it?"

He looked at her firmly, but refused to not take the challenge, and downed a mouthful of the stuff. It burned his mouth, the bitterness of the juice hitting him first, the alcohol of the vodka coming next, followed by the surprisingly sweet blueberry flavour. "That is…" he thought for a moment, "something else. I can't decide whether it's delicious or disgusting."Tobi laughed. And it was the first time Ikkaku noticed how her laugh sounded like a woman who was inches taller than she. In fact, everything about his tiny companion seemed much too large for her petite size. Her voice was too deep, her strides too long, her attitude too cocky yet her presence very demure. She was unlike anyone he'd met before, but mostly because he failed to understand her at all.

They'd been sparring for weeks now, her swordsmanship finally beginning to be on par with Academy students. She could hold her own. Still decades of work to go, but his lessons were paying off. And in these hours of training he'd noticed that this little spit fire had weaseled in to being classified as a friend of his.

He rarely considered many people his friends, mostly due to his loyalties being completely towards serving under Captain Zaraki and his life revolved around nothing but violence, sleeping and food. His only friends were Yumichika, for his complete opposing personality from Ikkaku's, and Renji, Ikkaku's protégé. But now it seemed that Tobi, little blond firecracker she was, understood his ways, and had managed to be put into his very small list of buddies.

She waltzed ahead of him like a prancing pony, her hands behind her back. She was often bipolar like this, one moment calm and sedate, very modest and polite, and the next moment she'd be very childish and playful, full of fire and a want for violence. It was both uncanny and interesting. He found it awesome.

They travelled in comfortable silence for a long time, passing through the nicer Districts, stopping to eat now and again, when finally District 76 was reached, and it was no surprise. The smell reached you first.

"This place sucks," Ikkaku said, covering his nose with the back of his hand, "And I grew up in worse. But this… how the hell did you live here?"The smell was of sulphur, body odour and rotten flesh. Tobi barely cringed. "I suppose I got used to it."

The shops were dingy, the people on the streets in muddled clothes, but their faces were not mean. Ikkaku was used to the people on streets with looks on their faces that said "Come and get me! I'm itchy for a fight." Here they seemed to just want nothing more than to be left alone.

"It's quiet," Ikkaku said was they walked down the street. And it was true. No one said a word. "Is everyone afraid of their shadows or what?"

Tobi was as quiet as everyone else when she answered. "Some bad shit went down here once, a man tried to take over the District. He didn't succeed of course, but the people were terrified. Most of the Denizens don't know how to fight, and the one's who do, well, they can do it well. Very well. They live in fear. Just, well, in fear of what COULD happen. Just in case. We're here."She stopped dead in her tracks in front of a tall and rickety building, a sign reading INN on the front, crooked and sad.

They went inside, and were hit with the smell of alcohol and blood. The man behind a counter, surrounded by empty bottles, swayed on the spot when he noticed little Tobi. "What the hell are you doing back here!"

He was old and grey haired with a beard that touched the counter, his eyes narrow but bright green. "We don't need you around here anymore!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, comically slamming his wrinkled fists on the counter. A drunk man sat up straight with a start, falling off of his stool with a clunk.

Tobi smirked at the man. "Doesn't matter if you need me or not. But I need my stuff. You still got it… right?"Her sentence was laced with poison, the last word hanging in the silence like blood hanging off the tip of a sword. The men in here were plastered, unable to think clearly, staring at the little blond, trying to figure out if she were a woman or a tall golden retriever. They weren't sure.

The old man made a sour face. "What makes you think I kept your things, you little bitch! You left without a word, no rent money in return! I threw it all out! ALL OUT! It's all gone! That's what you get for mooching from me!"

Ikkaku almost cracked up at the man, his facial expression became more and more like a 5 year old complaining about rules. Tobi smirked even wider.

"Do you know why I think you kept my things?" she said, so quietly that it was barely heard. Ikkaku wondered how a man of the bartenders age could possible decipher what she was saying, but he seemed to be listening. "Because, Onijiin, you know that if you ever threw away my things, I'd rip off your balls with a serrated knife."

* * *

Zaraki pounded his head against his desk.

Zuko had forced him into finishing his paper work, and after six hours of strenuous documentation, he was finished. All he smelled was paper and ink, paper and sweat, paper and… perfume.

Zuko was perched behind his shoulder like a watching raven, making sure every line was perfect, every symbol perfectly written, every signature spelled with the utmost care. "You missed the date for Mizazaki's referral to the squad. Or have you forgotten about your own recruits? January the third, last year. Holy shit, you were so behind…"

"Be quiet," the beast of a man growled, standing up to his full height. Usually he towered over other's, but Zuko reached his shoulders, a surprising feat for a woman. "Why don't you go do something other than make sure I'm doing my job."Zuko feigned hurt, a pout on her lips. "But, baby," she whined, "my job IS to make sure you're doing your job!"

He poked her in the ribs. "Shut the hell up."

He walked away. Zuko's mind went over those words. Shut up? She wished she could.

But her words were the only thing keeping her sane.

The silence was unbearable when she was alone. Tobi had told Zuko that taking Ikkaku along to Rukongai was to take away the feeling of emptiness they were both experiencing. Zuko wished she had someone to talk to, but Zaraki was grumpy. Oh yeah. Yachiru.

The pink lieutenant was sitting on the front deck of the division, waving around a tiny pink flag with the kanji for Eleven on it.

"Hey, Yachi," Zuko called out from Zaraki's office entrance. Yachiru whipped around like a rocket. "Do you want to go get some ice cream?"

* * *

The old man, Onijiin Tobi had called him, took them to the top floor of the rickety building to a single room, dusty and old. It seemed like it had been disembowelled, empty, barren. Empty other than a few random objects.

"Thanks, Oni," Tobi said as she entered the room, her eyes wide.

Ikkaku stared around the room. The only source of light was from a tiny window in the far corner, illuminating everything in the room with an eerie glow. There was a small futon and one desk but nothing else.

Tobi had her sights on a few random items; photographs lying on the floor, a bag, and a small blade with dried blood crusting it's handle.

"You came here for this?" Ikkaku asked, amazed she would bother with travelling this far for these meagre little items. "Doesn't seem like much. You couldn't live with it?"He laughed a little until her saw her look him in the eyes. They were sad. She held up a picture to him.

In the photo was a tall, beautiful blond man, his hair corn rowed to the scalp and the rest in a messy Mohawk. His eyes were blatantly, shockingly bright red, a mahogany colour. There was a woman being held in his arms, her lips on his neck, her skin pale as the mood and her hair a dark golden brown. Her eyes were closed. They both wore a strange uniform…

"It's my parents," Tobi told him, his voice sad, "My mother died when I was young, and I haven't seen my father in a very long time. This is what I came back for."Ikkaku felt horrible. He made fun of her most valuable possession, unintentionally of course, but he still felt like a right dick.

* * *

Yachiru was seated upon Zuko's shoulder, happily eating a cone of strawberry ice cream, the sweet treat a very similar colour to it's devourer's hair.

Zuko stared out absently, happy to have Yachiru's humming in her ears. The young girl had become so attached to Zuko that at time the Amazon forgot that Yachiru was not her daughter.

"What wrong, Zuko?"Zuko looked to her side to see Rangiku strolling up to the duo. "You're spacing out like a drunkard. Something the matter?"Zuko faked a smile; it was a good fake smile, brilliant and convincing. "I'm fine, Matsumoto. Really."

* * *

Ikkaku and Tobi stayed the night in that room, lacking the money to go anywhere more sophisticated. Ikkaku didn't mind at all, he was used to sleeping in alleys and using cardboard boxes as pillows. Tobi on the other hand…

"This place has bad memories," she kept saying, looking out the window nervously from the small futon. "When I would get into fights, I would come back here to heal, but I did it alone. I would spend hours in agony, broken bones, bruises, blood dripping through the floor boards. I made a mess of this place. It used to be nicer, really. I just trashed it."

She pointed a spindly finger to a dark patch of the wooden floor, "I laid there once, unable to get to the futon, and simply bled. A man had caught me off guard and kicked me in the ribs, stabbed me three times with that knife over there. I kept it to remind me not to ever let my guard down. Onijiin made me pay for the blood stains afterwards."

Ikkaku stared at her. He thought he'd had it bad…

She looked at him with a small smile. "But that's the past," she said quietly. "I've learned to live and let live, and I've never held any animosity towards the men that destroyed me. I would have done the same thing had I been a man and they the woman. Out here, you kill to prove your worth. I was worth nothing here."

Tobi was caught off guard by something. Well, something being a pair of lips on her own.

Ikkaku cracked. Something in his brain just shut off, possibly his intuition, and his emotions took full coverage. He barely even knew what his body was doing before it had bolted forward and his lips had landed on Tobi's in a violent kiss. His lips were strong but soft, hers immobile and fragile. He was shocked at himself and jumped back, landing on his ass, hands holding himself up to stare at his little blond friend- Or was she even classified as that anymore.

Her contacted eyes were wide. "Did you just-""No.""Yes, you did."

He swallowed the lump in his throat. No! He was a man of war, he lived for training, violence, the thrill of a fight and loved to drink away his sorrows. He had no time for these emotions. He liked to not have any commitments. He didn't go around with women, they weren't worth the time… Or so he thought.

She didn't say a thing, the petite woman letting him settles his mental arguments. Tobi could tell he was shocked at his actions, even more so than she was.

He sighed and let his body fall to the floor like a sack of flour. He shut his eyes as tight as he could. Suddenly, he heard a light shuffling, and felt a mass push itself against his side.

Tobi's head was pushed into the nook of his underarm, her chest against his ribs, her hand lightly lain on his chest. He could tell she was ready to jump away if he got mad, but he wasn't.

"I'm cold," she whispered.

Ikkaku swallowed hard and looked to the opposite side. They were laying beside the bloody circle…

"I'm sorry," he said to the blood stain.

She laughing into his ribs. "If you want it to never have happened, that's okay. I'm just freezing."

His heart skipped a beat. She was giving him the chance to take back what he did, but… He didn't want to. "No," he said. "I don't want to take it back, you dolt.""That's good then."

"And you know what?"She made a sound, but it was muffled by his shihakusho.

"You'll never be cold again. Not while I'm around."


	6. Dreams In Blue

***shoots herself***

**My last notice was a complete lie, considering I didn't update for... I don't even want to know how long. But I feel sick that I left it this long. And that this chapter isn't very long... but things have been even worse around my personal life than when I original updated you on it, and I don't feel like going into it, but I decided to give myself a schedule to update so I can actually have some motivation. All of the reviews I've recieved have made me SO happy yet I always felt bad that I didn't have time to write.**

**But besides that, everything that seems confusing now shall be revealed in technicolour later on. Don't worry. So I hope you enjoy this chapter, and, expect a new chapter EVERY SUNDAY EVENING. I promise.**

And thank you to my reviewers: _KURAWONA, SEXY-MIDNIGHT FOX, OPSPARK, THABLUEGRRL, 1ILOVEAUSTRALIA, GNARLEY, SPINWITCH, KUMERAI FANG-SAMA_ 3 3

**They all make my day, and enticed me to stop wallowing in my guilt and daily depression to come back to Tobi and Ikkaku 3 THANK YOU!**

* * *

Captain Commander Yamamoto had called a Captains meeting in the early morning of Halloween Day. Seireitei was painted with the colours of autumn; oranges, red, browns. The air was cool, and personalities calm. Anywhere other than the Captain's hall.

"I've called you together for one reason."

The Captain Commander stood at the front of his meeting as usual, hands rested peacefully on his cane. His body language was demure, but his reiatsu, which flickered waveringly, let on he was unsettled.

"I want to bring to your attention a presence. A presence that could become a great threat to the whole of Seireitei. Codename: Zero."

The Captains were silent as the Commander turned around. They knew better than to interject during an information meeting. He continued, his aged face frowning from every pore; "We've been feeling massive amounts of spiritual pressure on the outskirts of Rukongai. These waves have been recorded by the Twelfth Division. Captain Kurotsuchi, would you please elaborate for our comrades?"

The strange Twelfth Captain cleared his throat, looking up at Captain Zaraki's impending figure beside him. "Yes, sir, we have been recording these waves in reiatsu for the past few days. It feels very much like Shinigami powers, but there is nothing to prove that this is the presence of an Arrancar. The power is… odd. Somewhat practiced. Like whoever is emanating this strength is purposely pushing it towards Seireitei. Like they're trying to let us know they exist. Whomever they be. Very odd… very interesting."

"How is that possible?" Byakuya Kuchiki, captain of the Sixth Division spoke up, "For a Denizen of Rukongai to have power on par with a Shinigami and not be an Arrancar? It's never been heard of.

"Kyoraku Shunsui cleared his throat, "Are there any records of Rogue Shinigami in the area?" His floral kimono swayed as the Commander sighed.

"All Rogue Shinigami have been dealt with in the last few decades. No more exist, we have made sure. No Shinigami that has been in the Academy or set foot in Seireitei exists beyond these walls. There are no Ryoka to speak of. Rukongai should be completely rid of beings with high spiritual pressure."

The Captains mulled over this vague information.

"This is the only lead we have to a possibly devastating force against us," continued the Commander, "We may be overshooting this, but stay on guard. Influxes in spiritual pressure should not be taken lightly. Be on guard. This could be a dangerous threat."

* * *

"Can we leave yet?"An anxious Ikkaku lounged against the wall of the decrepit room he had slept in the night before. He longed for a good meal, at least better than the bowl of white rice Onijiin had so "graciously" given to them that morning. Tobi was scouring the room like a hawk, searching for any belonging of hers that she may have missed. The photo of her parents was attached to her back pocket.

"What else do you need?" he asked, wanting to get home as soon as possible. He itched for good food and even better, a good fight.

She ignored him somewhat coldly, her dull eyes narrowed in concentration. Her fingers were twitching, thin white spindles feeling around for treasure.

"It's…" she began, her voice odd, quiet, "…not here."

She scampered out of the room faster than he could watch, stumbling down the stairs like a clumsy child. Ikkaku followed her, carrying both of their bags, annoyed.

He found her, livid, at the counter of Onijiin's bar. Tobi's hands were laid on the wood, clawed into the surface like birds talons, her small size suddenly seeming a little larger as she puffed out her torso.

"What did you do with them, old man!" she yelled at the feeble senior citizen.

Onijiin looked at her like she was insane, his bright green eyes looking unsure of why she was yelling at him. "Where is what, you delinquent?"

"The photo!"

He scoffed, pouring himself sake into a small glass. "You had so many photos up there; I don't even know how you kept track of them all. Which would you be referring to, you insolent little-"

Her jaw set as she stared him in the eye, "The photo of my brothers, you jackass."

Onijiin paused with the glass to his lips, staring her in the eyes. "Miss Niimura… you know _I _of all people, would never ruin a keepsake of your brothers. Two of the finest young men I'd ever had the pleasure of housing here." He looked to the side, watching Ikkaku slump in a chair, waiting for their conversation to be over. Onijiin seemed to reconsider what he was about to say. Instead her asked, "Are their pictures missing?"

Tobi sighed. "Not just those. Every photo of my brothers, and, you-know-who…"

Onijiin nodded knowingly.

"Has anyone 'shady' come through here lately? Anyone that might have gone into my old room?" Tobi asked him.

He looked deep in thought, and then a look of memory dawn in his eyes. "Yes! A man… he didn't show me his face, but what of it I saw was very white, like you. His eyes were pale blue, very light. A very shady fellow. I just pushed it aside though, I've had worse, like some of your brothers' friends. He said his name was Hacchi. Sound familiar?"

Tobi banged her head on the counter. "Not at all."

* * *

Zuko lay on Zaraki's futon yet again, but instead of watching him prowl around the room like a male lion, black hair loose down his back like a mane, her thoughts were more focused on the cold, dampening pressure creeping up her spine. His sex appeal made no move on her.

Her throat had closed over hours ago. All night she had dreamt of nothing but the colour blue; dark, light, but nothing other than blue. Her head swam with a blue-induced migraine, and to everyone that asked her why she was so groggy and disconnected, her answer was always different. She couldn't very well say her dreams consisted of panels of navy, baby, pastel, and powder blues. She was already out of her mind for spending her time with the beast that stood above her.

"What's wrong with you?" he said, staring down at her through his mass of black hair.

Zuko's yellow eyes were narrow as she looked up into his green orbs. "Just tired," was what she always told him. "Haven't slept well…"

Zaraki stood back up and scoffed. "Tell me about it. You kept ME up all night, tossing and turning, moaning. And not in the sexy, attractive way. More like you were being strangled or something. Kind of sad, really."

Zuko sighed like an old woman. "I'm going to go talk with Renji."

"Why?"

"Just… I have something to say to him."

* * *

Ikkaku scampered after his blonde friend as she ran down the streets on Rukongai, her devious questions reaching the ears of every store owner, drunk, child, and street-rat she passed. "Have you seen a man with blue eyes?" Around here, the color blue was uncommon. It was too joyful. Too calm.

"Will you take a chill pill or something?" Ikkaku yelled after her, "Our fucking bags are putting a dent in my shoulder. Calm down, you midget!"

Tobi whipped around so fast a young boy ran from her in fear. "My worldly possessions have been _taken,_ Ikkaku. Those pictures are all I have anymore. I fully intend on getting them back. Now if you insist on complaining, _go back without me._"

Ikkaku humphed and growled. "Fine then," he yelled at her retreating form, walking away from him again, "I hope you find what you're looking for! I'll be back at home, with good food, a good fight, and a good bed! Unlike you, with dirty streets and useless leads!"

* * *

Renji sat on the steps on his division, staring into the eyes of a woman who he was glad to call a friend.

Zuko stood before him like a looming tigress, her piercing yellow orbs narrowed and serious. She scratched a black inked bird on her forearm as she thought of what her next speech should be. Renji's shock of red hair was distracting her.

He sniffed and grinned like a wolf, "I'm thinking you came here for a reason, oh majestic statue. Have anything to say?"

"Well, yes, I do," Zuko sighed, running her boney fingers through her black feather hair. "Okay. Have you been in contact with my sister lately?"

His eyes narrowed slightly, but unlike Zuko, it was with adoration rather than nervousness. "Well here's a pressing matter. No. No I haven't. Shame, too. Why?"

Zuko snarled. "Nevermind…"

* * *

As Ikkaku gladly started back towards his home, Seireitei, Tobi ran as fast as she could around the district, obviously stricken with grief. But he ignored her. This wasn't his problem.

There was a small, nagging feeling in the back of his head, and if he could have swatted it away, he would have. He hadn't felt it before, but it was increasingly annoying as his legs moved him towards home. What was it? Oh yes.

Guilt.

He could still hear her scampering around, asking every stranger she passed about a man they didn't know. And he had never felt guilt this strongly before. She was obviously out of her mind with worry. He may not have understood the extent of which she was so angry about simple photographs, but his heart went out to her, and his legs turned his body around in the other direction.

As he did, instead of seeing his blond friend running around like a fool, he saw a person. They were covered from head to toe in black robes and cloaks, their face hidden from view, even their eyes, but Ikkaku could tell that the figure before him was staring at his bald head.

"Wha'd'you want?" he said coolly, peering around the black clad mass, "Mind moving?"

The black figure held its head up high. It was quite tall, taller than Ikkaku was, and said "Give this to your friend… The one over there."

It was a female voice, deep and quiet, but other than that, it was bone chilling. Handing Ikkaku a folded piece of paper, the figure ran off into an alley.

"What the hell…" he muttered to himself, scanning the outside of the folded square. He saw Tobi at the end of the dingy street, and ran after her.

* * *

Zuko smashed her Zanpakutou against the training grounds walls, screaming at the top of her lungs for a reason her on-looking division members had no idea of. The men watched her with wide eyes, hearing her slews of curses and language unfit for even the Eleventh members, her black hair flying wildly around her face like eagle wings. Even Zaraki stood far back away from his woman, worried her flinging sword may catch him in the nose.

"Why won't you say anything!" she yelled, her voice raspy and disgruntled, "Work you piece of scrap metal!"

"I think she's gone nuts, Captain," said a tall, battered man with greying brown hair and bright amber eyes. He stood next to Zaraki, a worried expression on his face. This was 6th seat, Jaya Kimura. "I've never seen her spar with, well, _herself_, sir."

Zaraki sat on the steps, watching his woman with a lazy expression. "She's bonkers anyway," he said. "Nothing to worry about." But as he saw Zuko throw her sword to the ground and stomp on it with the heel on her sandal, even he had a hard time believing himself.

* * *

Ikkaku caught up to Tobi just as she was entering a battered old Inn (and Ikkaku wondered why they hadn't slept there instead. It was much cleaner). He grabbed her scrawny neck and dragged her back out.

"Here," he said, "Someone gave me this, told me to give it to you. Don't know who it was, they were covered from head to foot."

Tobi gave him a glare before taking the paper. Her fingers were shaking with the effort of running around. The edges of the paper crackled as she unfolded it, and read it aloud.

"Dear Who-It-May-Concern,

"This has gone on long enough. I am finished living in the shadows that you have created for me to step in. My days of living in fear of you are over. I intend to suck every ounce of life from your existence, whoever you are, because although I do not know you who you are reading this note, but I know where you come from, otherwise it would never have landed in your hands. You can't hide forever from your past, and whoever you are, you will pay. You will pay, or join my cause. Either way, justice will be served. Good luck, stranger.

"-Zero."

Tobi's eyes had gone blank, like storm clouds, and her mouth was a thin line. The last word on the paper made her voice into a whisper and Ikkaku had to strain to hear her.

"What the hell is that about?" he asked her, scratching the back of his head. "Whoever that was really meant for is in some trouble, sounds like that guy isn't happy."

She was utterly silent, even as a young boy collided into her shins and she was sent tumbling into Ikkaku's arms. She pushed him away as he tried to help her back up, and clenched her jaw together violently. Ikkaku noticed at the bottom of the paper was several signed names, all scrawled in different cursive fonts, different colours… "It's been making its way around…"

Tobi threw it to the ground and swore loudly. And old man across the street stared at her as she ground her foot into the small crumpled letter and screamed, ripping it to shreds and sending the remaining pieces into a puddle of abandoned sake.

"That fucker!" she screamed, clenching her hands into her shaggy hair. She pulled so hard Ikkaku had to wonder how it hadn't been pulled out.

"Calm down!" he snapped at her, grabbing her arms and yanking her into an alley, "Stop making a scene! Hey – stop that, you're hurting yourself – tell me what's wrong. Who wrote that? Was it meant for you?"

Her breath came in hiccups as she spoke. "That's who took my photos! I know it! No one else would be rounding up our belongings like this. I'm the last to fucking know!"

Holding her arms to her sides to stop her from thrashing, Ikkaku tried to remember some of the names on the note. _Kurama Yingi, Haruka Amaya, Kentanabe Jun, Riko Yuna, Kyoku Kiori,_ _Inaya Mido_… he was certain that was all of them, plus a few male names he wasn't quite sure all. Not one rang a bell to him, but judging by her flailing arms and tear streaked face, Tobi was less than pleased to read aloud those names.

Ikkaku snarled and pushed her against the wall, having enough her – for now – unjustified reactions. "Elaborate, Tobi! I have no idea what's going on – tell me what the hell that even means."

She shook her head and instead weaseled out of his arms and stomped out of the alley and back down the street. "Let's just go home," she said, still fuming by the sound of her words coming through clenched teeth, "I'll tell you later…"

* * *

Now, Zaraki would never admit this, but the way Zuko was thrashing about, made him extremely nervous.

He had come back from his nightly bath, only to have his entire room destroyed, covered in sword-slashes. His pillows had been torn to bits, sheets in shambles, and she sat within the chaos, staring at her sword blankly as if she were dead but had yet to fall over.

"Get a hold of yourself," he said nastily as he pushed her over with his foot. She didn't even make to get back up, "I'm going to expect that something's wrong with that Zapakutou of your's, but I wont even ask what. We've never been the type to share our peeves, so I'll leave you with this – whatever it is that's making you tear this division apart, needs to stop, and, I guess, if you need to talk about it," who coughed awkwardly, "I'm here… I guess. If you, you know, want."

"That was the most awkward confession I've ever heard, "she said solemnly from the floor. "I don't need to talk. Talking doesn't help. My sword is broken."

Zaraki took one look at the battered but otherwise completely intact sword and frowned, "In what way?"

Zuko hauled herself upright. "I know you don't know what this is like, but when you know your sword's name it's like their a part of you, and sometimes your bond is so strong you can communicate together. And my sword spirit has been silent and inactive for weeks. I can't even activate Shikai. It wont do anything. It's just a fucking useless piece of metal right now."

Zaraki gave her a cold stare and she realized what she said. "Which is fine! But you can utilize the sword without the spirit because of your reiatsu. My sword is almost completely reliant on its spirit… it's even dull now, Kenpachi. I'm going crazy. This means something, but I'm hoping to hell that it isn't what I think it is."

* * *

Tobi absolutely stomped the entire way back to Seireitei, Ikkaku stuck with their bags on his back and with the feeling of absolutely awkwardness as she was completely silent.

"Say something!" he yapped, "What, are we going to have a whole, reveal-all story time back home or what?"

"If that's what it takes," she sighed, "Than yes. I can't tell you now. I'm fuming. Unless you want me to rip your balls off, I suggest shutting up for a moment while I calm by beating heart."

She was spun around slowly as Ikkaku planted a kiss on her tensed lips. He looked her in the eyes – he could have sworn a red tinge showed up behind her contacts – and said sternly, "Sometimes we all need a little help."

Even with the heavy bags on his back, he tugged her into his chest so her face was buried in his collar bones. Indeed her heart was beating rapidly, and he could tell the difference between every type of heart beat. His was mostly of the adrenaline-induced kind, the thrill of battle. Hers was furry, erratic and painful feeling as it thumped against his ribs. But it eventually slowed down to a normal, less-painful rhythm as his calloused hands held her shoulders firmly but kindly, her hair tickling his chin.

"Better?" he asked bluntly, mouth buried in her blond head..

"Better," she said, muffled by his shihakusho.

* * *

Zuko tinkered with her sword all night, the sounds of Zaraki's snores ringing in her ears. He's tried to weasel her under his covers for some midnight fun, but a sword to his neck was enough to both entice him, and tell him to back off. That sword had been used for both kinky, erotic purposes and violent, not-very-playful fighting between them. He just went to sleep.

She heard Tobi and Ikkaku enter the hallway, and she was up and out of Zaraki's room faster than she thought she was capable of. She wasn't the fastest Shinigami around. Age catches up with you eventually.

Zuko pressed her against the rice-paper door gently, listening to them whisper, knowing the consequences on waking tired men.

"… never really expected to hear from her again – I'll tell you who in a minute – but I know I never wanted to either."

Zuko swallowed her want to jump out at them and hear what she was talking about, her sword situation seemed fishy enough to possibly have something to do with their conversation. But instead, she let them pass by down to Ikkaku's room, stalling her curiosity just enough so she could slide down the wall, and try to figure out what Tobi had been speaking of.

She heard Ikkaku's door open and shut.

Tobi threw herself onto Ikkaku's futon face first, feeling him sit down beside her head and tugging on a strand of her hair. She sat up, stripped off the black outer layer of her shihakusho so the white robe beneath was all that was between the spirit particles around them and her tattooed flesh.

Ikkaku lay back, also shedding his uniform so his scarred chest was bare. "Start talking," he said.

She sighed and stared at him, fingers playing with the hem on his pants nervously. "I don't know where to start… or what I can actually tell you."

"Wherever and whatever you want, as long as you stop being so goddamn fucky and nervous about whatever this is."

She closed her eyes and thought.

"I grew up… in a weird place. Not in Rukongai, and that's all I'll say. We were brought up in a sort of convent, where being a rounded fighter and spiritual being was the greatest achievement. It was odd. But it was good. Odd. But good. My friends and I, the people I grew up with, had another friend. But she wasn't talented, like us. We were all good fighters. And she wasn't. She'd often be pushed around by us – but we were just kids, we didn't know it bothered her so much.

"So one day she killed one of my friends, he was younger than me. She got mad that he was praised for bringing down one of our teachers. So she slit his throat with her father's dagger. And she was sent away. None of us knew where. But we quickly put her out of our minds, and by the odd chance we ever thought about her, it was her eyes – such terrible eyes…

"And that's all I can tell you."

Ikkaku stared at her incredulously, not understanding anything other than the friend issue. She was incredibly vague, but he knew not to push her. At least she said something. At least her shoulders were slumped in relaxing now instead of tearing out her hair follicles.

"So, you think that letter is from her? But why would she be circling it around? And who do you think that guy is? The guy who Oniijin thinks took your photos?"

Tobi shook her head. "I don't know. I really don't. And if I did, I can't tell you anymore. I'm physically incapable of it..."

She cracked her neck from the stress.

He didn't push her any more. It looked like her head might cave in if he said anything else, so instead he grabbed her small wrists and pulled her gently to his side. She swallowed hard and shoved her head into his ribs, a somewhat painful sensation for him at first but eventually he settled into her as she did him, and there was absolute silent. And absolutely no hair pulling.


	7. The Colour Red and Discernible Lies

**Okay, not QUIET Sunday night, but I updated! A little bit longer of a chapter this time, with a LEMON/SMUT/SEX warning. This is rated mature for three reasons: violence, strong language and sex. And this one just happens to be the last one. :) **

**I hope I haven't lost everyone D: I know I took a little hiatus because of personal issues, but I promise I'm back now, and the real storyline starts now. So, ENJOY!**

* * *

"You REALLY need to relax…"

If Tobi had thought that she was even the slightest bit able to relax, she would have, but pacing the training grounds was good enough for her at the moment. Ikkaku, Yumichika, and a visiting Renji sat lazily on the Eleventh's steps, eyeing her worriedly.

Yumichika sighed. "She'll sooner make a rivet in the ground than come up with an epiphany. If that's even what's she's aiming for!" He shouted the last bit directly at Tobi.

Renji laughed, "You know," he said, "sometimes you just gotta let the thoughts flow! Relax a bit, take a breather, look at some pebbles. Something will come to yah… Not sure WHAT you're aiming for, but whatever it is, I'm sure you could think about it while not creeping us out… Like you are now."

Indeed she was. As petite as she was, the young woman was slumped over like a broken old man, hair limp and lifeless against her brow. The air was cool, the Autumn leaves scattered around under her feet. If they could have run away, they would have. She wasn't even in uniform; she had on a dull grey yukata and long shite socks with the traditional geta sandals. She held her Zanpakutou between both hands.

Ikkaku stared at her fixedly, the only one of the three men not sniggering at her. The way her eyes darted to him every so often made him want to shake her upside down and make her go back to pelting him in the face with her sword. That was much more fun than watching her act like a ditched lion with the expression that was the epitome of sorrow.

The three men turned when they heard someone walk in between them.

Zuko was dressed in a similar, lazy way, in a black kimono that swept the floor, hair a mess and eyes dull and lifeless. Her sword was nestled on her shoulder, quivering.

"What's she doing?" she asked.

The three men shrugged. "Trying for a moment of eureka, we guess," said Yumichika. Renji followed with, "My guess in an inner vendetta. Wish she'd jump out of it though, I wanted to spar. But with her in the middle of the grounds, hitting her with a sword could be so easy. And I really don't want to feel her hakuda fists shoved up my ass."

Zuko sniffed uninterested. She shouted, "Tobi! We need to talk!" and walked straight back through the door.

* * *

Ikkaku had Renji in a headlock when Tobi ran back into the training grounds. Her hair was perfectly styled into her usual faux-hawk, and her shihakusho had replaced her yukata. She was bright eyed and her sword was nowhere in sight.

Renji weaseled out of Ikkaku's arms, whacked the bald man on the head, and smiled at his blond friend. "Finally! You better now? You get your epiphany… or whatever you were doing?"

Tobi laughed, and for the first time since yesterday, it was real. "Yeah, I'm good now," she said, hopping on to the sandy turf. "But, my hands are itching to hit someone in the face. Too many months of using that damned sword. Someone fight me mano-a-mano."

Renji backed off at that, saying, "Not today, thanks. I have a meeting with Byakuya later and I don't much feel like showing up with broken ribs. But I'm sure Ikkaku wouldn't mind." He winked at Ikkaku at this.

Of course Renji had gotten the news of Ikkaku's little crush on Tobi. The two were buds, good pals, the best of friends and nothing escaped Renji is he suspected something. And by the way Ikkaku's eyes glazed over when he watched Tobi mope, as if her sorrow made him want to rip his face off, Renji knew there was something going on. Ikkaku had spilled the beans about their kiss, and how they were… Well… hell, what _were_ they?

But in any case, Ikkaku regretted letting Renji know, because he would never let it go. But he was right that Ikkaku did want to fight Tobi. Fighting Tobi meant that she was feeling better, and when she was down, he was down, just because she was always around, and with a constant sigh in your ear, you had no choice but to be moody. So he put up his fists, his bare chest gleaming in the sun, and shouted at his blond companion, "Come on, midget!"

She flung herself at him like dart and landed her fist beneath Ikkaku's ribs, making him burst out laughing. Her intention hadn't been to tickle, but she had hit a little too loosely, so she went with it. Digging her fingers into his sides, she sent him to the ground howling with laughter long enough for her to kneel on his arms and declare herself the winner.

Catching his breath (and after being kicked in the head by Renji before he left) Ikkaku looked up at his blond friend – was that even what they were? – and said, "So, is your little dilemma over now? Whatever that was?"

She grinned, digging her knees into his shoulders. "Yeah, well, no, it's not over, but Zuko and I have come to the conclusion that until something worse happens, we're going to forget about the entire thing. We don't even know exactly WHAT we're worrying about yet, so, might as well put it behind me. And I must say," she leaned down and bit his nose lightly, "It's much more fun to torment you than wallow around."

* * *

Zuko's stomach growled as she made her way to meet Rangiku for lunch. Yachiru was perched atop her head like a sunhat, playing with Zuko's wing-like hair and humming a song that had no real discernible melody.

She could feel the note Tobi had gotten inside her pocket. Reading over it had given her the chills. She couldn't even imagine how Tobi had felt. Neither of them were sure what it meant, but if it was from who they thought, then they were in trouble. But, she promised Tobi they would both lay off the worrying. So she settled for carrying around the piece of paper. Just in case Zaraki snooped and asked more questions than he had been.

Yachiru yanked especially hard on Zuko's hair and asked, "Can we go get ice cream?"

Zuko leapt out of her thoughts and growled, "Do you think about anything other than sweets? Oh, and Byakuya snarled at me today. I think he's catching on to your little game, hiding out inside his house. You are going to be in so much trouble."

Yachiru grinned and leaned down to lay a wet, sloppy kiss on her surrogate mother's forehead. "Nope," she said confidently, "I'm too sneaky for that! Now, onward! Ice cream! Hiya!"

She kicked at Zuko's shoulders like a racing horse. Zuko sighed. "Okay, okay. I guess I haven't been spending very much time with you."

She could feel Yachiru frown. "Yeah. And Kenny's been busy. Old-man Yamamoto said if he didn't catch up on his paper-work that he'd punish him. Don't know what he'd do to Kenny though!"

Zuko snorted. "Pretty sure the Old Man could kick Kenpacihi's ass if he wanted. But, I am sorry for kind of abandoning you. I've been kind of-"

"Acting weird, being a loner, sleeping alone, not paying attention to anybody?" Yachiru finished for her. "You and Tobi were acting really weird for a bit. Good that your back to normal!"

Zuko smiled, but it was extremely half-hearted.

* * *

Their somewhat short-lived fight had turned into a small, but ever so intense, make-out session behind the Eleventh's barracks. Tobi was on her knees between Ikkaku's open legs, her hands tightly gripping his muscled neck, buried in his mouth. His hands were busy, one fingering her hair and the other playing at the hem of her shihakusho sleeves. For a small woman, her lips were fierce, and it had him grinning. What was the fun in a woman who needed direction? Tobi knew exactly what to do, and that was everything Ikkaku liked.

Tobi wished that these kisses were just because she wanted Ikkaku. And they were. But there was that horrible, distracting gut-wrenching feeling that she needed this just to be able to ignore what she's been worrying about. Deep inside she knew that the extent of which her and Zuko had been reacting was a little unjustified under the circumstances, but she couldn't help it, so she buried her fears inside her heart and buried her face in Ikkaku's neck.

Before she registered what was going on, she and Ikkaku were shunpo-ed to their room, and neither took any time to become accustomed. Tobi was on her back in seconds. Funny how a simple weakly aimed punch could turn into Ikkaku sending kisses along her collarbone, asking in a hushed whisper if if this was what she wanted. Both were hazy and delirious, but her nod was discernible enough.

The last thing Ikkaku wanted to do was take advantage of Tobi, but she had literally thrown herself at him, and he wasn't the type of man to walk away from a chance to have sex. And Tobi was certainly someone he'd had his eye on. Not only was she a good sparring partner, but her body wasn't that of a 5'2 young woman, it was mature and had curves and wasn't exposing of her ribs, Ikkaku didn't like women that could break under his hands, which, let's face it, were not the most gentle. He'd already released her from her shihakusho, and his nose was pressed against her chest.

Neither of them spoke, he was too content with her finger messaging the back of his bald head, and she was too engrossed in his hands firmly sliding down her bare sides. She let out a moan when both of his calloused hands cupped her breasts, his mouth leaving lazy kisses down to her naval, lapping at the scars and tattoos on her belly with his tongue. Her bare legs were shifting around, toes curling around the hem of his pants, expertly sliding them down and past the edge of the futon. He pressed against the inside of her legs, smooth and soft against his thighs.

She really was perfect in his eyes. Her breasts were small and easily fit into his large, work-hewn hands, and she let out the most subtle of sounds to let him know he was on the right track. He ran his tongue in a straight line from her belly to her neck, her hands sliding strongly down the muscles in his back. Her fingers were bent, being just rough enough to get Ikkaku aroused. No sense in a woman that didn't excite him.

He lifted himself above her to plant and surprisingly loving kiss on his soft lips. It even surprised himself; every woman he'd slept with before he hadn't dared kiss, because sex was sex and that was that. But as he looked into her eyes, he smiled and kissed along her jaw and he pressed against her, his rock hard manhood telling her how goddamn ready he was. She quietly begged him to start, but before he did, sending her into agony, he said strongly into her neck, "Take them out."

Not wanting to prolong her distraction for much longer, she reached into her eyes and threw her contacts to the floor. That was good enough for him, and without a single warning, no preparation, he plunged deep into her with one strong thrust.

Tobi bit into his shoulder as she hissed, and his arms wound around her milky waist, holding her against him. He whispered his apologies, another usual thing, and stalled deep within her, letting get her bearings. She breathed heavily, and he could tell she'd drawn blood when she licked his shoulder in a sensual, caring way. She shifted underneath him and kissed the hollow of his cheek.

He pulled out slowly, almost until he was fully out, and pushed back in. Her elicited croon was enough for him to smirk and set a pace that pleased them both.

She was capable of handling a lot for a woman her size, Ikkaku having full liberty to push with strength into her. He wasn't one to rush, so he was pacing it slow, and she didn't complain, just met him after each thrust, her hands gripping his sides, moaning his name in a tone that sent Ikkaku into ecstasy. Her voice, throaty to begin with, was husky and full of emotion that he rarely heard while having sex, and the word "Ikkaku" seemed to be her favourite word as she was thoroughly ploughed beneath him.

Her lips constantly kissed his neck as he rose up slowly, moving to his knees and lifting her with him. She now sat in his lap, him never stopping his pace. She was slick and easy to hold, her fingers holding his waist and she bobbed up and down on him. She craned her neck backwards, her back arching as he felt his peak rising. Her skin was hot under his arms, and the way her mouth opened slightly, no more words, was nothing he'd ever seen. Usually his women screamed and whooped with joy as they rode out their orgasms, but Tobi, she was quiet, savoring the feeling of how hot they were both getting, the sound of his breathing getting heavier, and her own muscles tightening around him. He didn't even warn her when he climaxed. He didn't need too. They both moaned in erotic, beautiful tones as he filled her to the brim with his juices and her arms wrapped around his neck.

Ikkaku let himself fall backwards onto his (their?) futon. What had just happened was not the most exciting, not the wildest, not the best sex he'd ever had, but it was something that left him the most gratified. His deep breaths were content as he felt his muscles relax, and it was like there was absolutely nothing to care about in the world, especially as her head rose to slather his neck and jaw with warm, loving kisses.

He wasn't used to a woman staying in his arms after it was all finished, but he had to admit, keeping her there was the most perfect scenario he could think of. He'd never felt as calm as when she was babying his skin with her mouth. He'd never felt more… loved.

Tobi's fingers slid along his neck as she rose to look at him. Her face was beautiful, stark white was flushed with the aftermath of her orgasm, and she rubbed his nose affectionately with hers. She whispered in his ear, "I want to show you something."

She rose off the futon, covering her beautiful flesh with the covers. Her legs shifted towards the window, where rays of sunlight shone through, but had blatantly passed them on the futon where they had been buried in shadows. Ikkaku sat up and watched her smooth her hair backwards, and look into the light.

Her eyes, stripped off their contacts, were not the olive green he had seen before. Nor did they have the flecks of red he had seen for a moment. They were bright, violent, bloody red. Just red.

Ikkaku moved forward, staring at the gleaming orbs inside her head. They were mesmerizing, attracting his attention like a moth to flame. They seemed to shimmer with gleaming cherry flakes like craft-sparkles, and her pupils were the darkest red he could imagine. They were absolutely beautiful, but he could only mutter one phrase, the one that ate at him the moment he saw he eyes.

"That's the exact colour of my reiatsu…"

She smiled serenely, out of character from her usual smirks and scowls. The beautiful eyes narrowed as she said quietly, "I know."

Her fingers pulled at the fabric around her shoulders oddly, staring directly at the sunlight again. "It's what you saw before. The flecks of red? You touched me then. Your reiatsu had… entered me, is the easiest way to put it. I didn't want to know, because, well… My father told me that I was an odd girl, and the only way I would ever know who I was meant to be with, as a life partner, was that them and I would… well, become one. He never said how. But I figured it out. When you and I would fist fight, I would look myself in the mirror later and stare into the flecks of red, mirroring your reiatsu, and I knew that's what he meant. And now… after that…"

She blushed, something he'd never seen her do before, but then grinned wolfishly. "Guess that was what sent these babies over the edge. They'll stay red for as long as your around me…"

She went quiet, thinking he would be completely turned off by now, her eyes becoming the ultimate commitment factor, but he did the opposite. He leaned forward, took her mouth in his in his usual, playful way, and looked into those gleaming eyes. "Well," he said, "Those are too beautiful to ever lose. Guess I'm gonna have to stay around for a while."

Those red eyes narrowed, and she smiled, pleased. "I guess so," she whispered, "But… I'm going to take a shot in the dark, and guess that you aren't used to women staying the night after you fuck them."

He grinned and lay back, patting his chest. She took the instruction and laid her body down against his. "It's true, they usually take off afterwards. But you said the women I fuck. So, yeah, every woman I've ever fucked has taken off."

"What about me?"

He took a chance, and against his better instincts, kissed the top of her head. His hands ran along her spine, noticing a large, all-engrossing tattoo of a screaming Bengal tiger covering her entire back, reaching down around her beautiful hips. He quietly said against her hair, "I didn't fuck you, Tobi."

She smiled against his chest. "I know."

* * *

Zuko sat cross-legged on Zaraki's desk, Yachiru contentedly eating a rather vomit-worthy pink-coloured ice-cream in her lap. Zaraki was buried in paperwork since Zuko had been self-incapacitated. He often looked up at his two girls, scowled, and went back to being a desk jockey.

"Would you like some help?" Zuko asked, disrupting a giggling that almost escaped her throat. He growled threateningly. "You sure?"

"Yes I'm sure!" he barked at her.

It was moments like these when people though Zaraki and Zuko hated each other, but in reality it was just their way of communicating their care for one another. Fighting with each other was like breathing. They fought more than they kissed, yelled more than they had sex, and physically hurt one another more than they said anything that involved the word love, which was never. But, together they were a team that couldn't be broken, proven by the many women trying to get within Zaraki's pants that were denied entrance. He may not have been seen as one by his peers, but Zaraki was a one woman guy. And that one woman was Zuko.

Yachiru giggled at her self-appointed parents. Kenny and Zuzu were her world. Zaraki had saved her life, and for that she would stay by his side forever. Zuko made Zaraki happy, and in turn, Yachiru couldn't have been ANY happier. Zuko treated Yachiru like a daughter, and even though they were odd, loud, violent, and dysfunctional, their little family was good enough for Yachiru. She didn't care what other's thought, because in her eyes, the three of them would be together forever.

"Kenny?" Yachiru said through a mouthful of ice-cream. Zuko swatted her head for that.

"What?" she grumbled, writing at a speed that made his kanji almost intelligible.

"You love Zuzu."

It wasn't a question, she had just blatantly stated a fact. He looked up at her with his dark green eyes, narrowed them, and said, "Is that so, pipsqueak?"

She nodded vehemently. "Yup. I can tell. Because you love me. And no one is allowed to sit on your desk other than me. Or be in your room. Or sit on you. Or call you names. Or hit you. No one can do any of that but me. But Zuzu can too. So, you love Zuzu."

Zuko stifled the want to strangle the child as Zaraki's eyes twitched. He sniffed, irritated.

"You know what," he said in a low voice that made Zuko shiver with delight and Yachiru giggle, "I think you're full o' shit. Both of yah, get out of here before I send you both out ass over face."

Zuko stood and put Yachiru back atop her shoulders. "Well then," she said, serious-faced and bowing. Yachiru nearly toppled to the floor as Zuko's nose touched the top of Zaraki's desk, "I suppose I shall leave. But, before I do, I think there's something you should know."

Her hands gripped the table, and before he could stop her, the table was flipped into his lap and every paper that had been neatly stacked was now flying away onto the floor. Zuko ran out of the room as fast as she could, her and Yachiru howling with laughter. They heard a screamed, "ZUKO!" as they exited the barracks.

* * *

It was nearly nightfall when Zuko ventured back to her division. She knew that Zaraki would be less than pleased with her. But, something had snapped within her when he blew Yachiru off, something she couldn't quiet place. From what she knew, she was NOT in love with Kenpachi Zaraki. No. so why would him passing off his love for HER bother her so much?

She chose not to dwell on it, instead walking towards the room she and Zaraki shared. She had to run between two men sparring with one another, almost getting caught by one of their blades. Ikkaku and Tobi were fighting fist-to-fist, Tobi clearly winning with Ikkaku being held in a choke hold. Zuko caught Tobi's eyes for a moment, grinned at their red gleam, and shouted, "Better get your act together Ikkaku! Wouldn't want to be whipped by someone who's a foot shorter than you!"

Ikkaku flipped her off but grinned, flipped Tobi onto the ground. It was the last thing Zuko saw before she was dragged into the hallway.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Zaraki growled in her face, barely visible in the near-darkness of the hall. "It took me an hour to sort all that shit out again. I JUST finished. Are you fucking nuts?"

Zuko had never been afraid of Zaraki, and she wasn't now, but the proximity his nose face was to her was unbearably close, and she was forced to breath in his smell. He usually went for a nightly bath by now, to clean off the extra sweat and grime from a day of training, but obviously she'd hindered that routine. He smelled of dirt and body odour.

"I'm sorry," she said weakly, being not something she usually said to him. "I just need a little… laugh."

He straightened up and crossed his arms threateningly. "At my expense as always."

She looked into the eyes that were shadowed, and smiled weakly. "You know I didn't mean to upset you. I just wasn't thinking, I guess…" She touched the area of his chest that wasn't hidden by his captain's haori. "Please let me make it up to you."

He grinned. Of course this was what he wanted. Zaraki was an easy man to ease out of being angry as long as you knew how. "I need a bath," he said, and that was enough for her. She pushed against his chest , kissing between his collar bones, whispered huskily.

"Let's go then."

He practically dragged her to the bathhouse, almost at a run, and when they were safely inside, shrouded in steam, they're only coverage a pair of towels, one around her chest, his around his waist, he shoved her into the water.

She laughed when she emerged, watching Zaraki removed his towel and walk in. her towel was soaked as she flipped in across the steamy room. No one else was here. As per usual. Everyone knew this was the time Zaraki took his baths, and he wasn't the easiest man to get along with. If you weren't in the Eleventh division, there was a strong chance he didn't like you.

Zaraki's hands reached for her arm and he pulled her onto his lap. Another thing people didn't know about Zaraki, was that the way to ease him out of anger was not, as many would think, sex. It was… to wash his hair.

She had, many times, tried to fool him into using shampoo since her fingers loved the feel of how silky his hair could get, but he was barking against it, so she eased the shampooed against his scalp, and massaged his hair with gentled fingers.

Zaraki was physically drained from today. He was not used to that much work. He could handle a full day of training recruits, but a full day of paperwork made him angry and stiff and wasted. Zuko's finger felt like heaven as they worked towards the back of his head. This was why he kept her around. She kept him calm.

"I really am sorry," she said as she placed a well-put kiss on his lips. "I just-"

He laughed and held her hips with his strong hands. "I was just joking. Did piss me off, but whatever. And I know why you did it, I'm not an idiot, although most may think so. But sometimes you have to give Yachiru a reality check. She always thinks she's right, so sometimes you've gotta tell her off. She's kind of right, I don't let anyone do any of those things but you and her. But I wouldn't call it love, and I know that bothers you."

"It doesn't bother me."

Zuko wasn't sure if that was a lie or not. Her head said it wasn't. She didn't love him. He didn't love her. So what was the problem? He heart on the other hand…

"Yeah. It does," he insisted as she took and bowl on the side of the bath and poured water over his head. She held her hand above his eyes so the soap wouldn't get in. "It's not like I don't notice. No woman would ever put up with me if they didn't think there was something more between us than what I usually have with women. But it's not love. But it is something."

When she was done with the water, he took her against him for a strong and amazing kiss. The kisses that made her heart rule out her head. "It is something that I can't explain, but am happy enough to live with without knowing exactly what it is."

He grinned against her lips.

"I'm good with that," she said.

Now that his hair was finished, he finished washing the rest of his body, removing the smell of a hard-day's work, and when they left the bathhouse, she was much more obliged to curling against his side like a large tiger in their room.

He smelled beautiful. He looked beautiful. He was beautiful.

But she would never tell him that.


	8. Confessions of Dangerous Varieties

**I wont even begin to try to count how long it's been since I updated, but... I recently lost a beloved family member, my grandfather, and although it is a very personal issue, I would like you readers to know. It was very hard on me to get back into the groove of writing, everything just seemed off to me. I wrote this over the past few days, finally back up to my normal self, and I hope it doesn't confuse any of you too much, all will be revealed in total clarity soon, and I hope this will satiate you. I know I have some new readers I feel terrible for being so awful these past few... whatever it's been. **

**Reviews would REALLY help me right now, for although I love the reading aspect, I need to know that some of you still like this :)**

* * *

"I think you broke my ribs…"

"I think you cracked my femur…"

"Do you think we were a little… rough?"

"Nah… pain's good, right?"

"Yeah… Seriously, Tobi, I think you broke me."

Tobi looked down at her bald companion with a screwed, hidden smirk. Her sillohuette was dark in front of a sun that was beginning to set behind her.

"Sorry," she said, prodding Ikkaku's bruised side with her fingers. "Fourth Division now? I told you we should have stayed fighting with the swords."

Ikkaku looked at her with malice. "I hope you can't walk, you little-" he winced as she tickled his broken ribs, "-fucking midget. Help me up with that fucked up leg."

Tobi found it hard not to laugh even though she knew she shouldn't. They'd been practicing together, a morning of hakuda and petty jabs to the side, until one thing lead to another and both had ended up with injuries that only Unohana could heal. Tobi had absolutely no qualms about the larger man beating her to a pulp – she in fact did as much damage as he had done, and both knew that at the end of the day, injuries would be forgotten with a good few drinks and a few well-placed kisses.

As she hauled Ikkaku to his feet, her left leg having less energy than it had a few minutes ago being bruised and most definitely sprained, she blinked her dangerously red eyes and secretively kissed his chin, hiding it expertly from the men around them.

Tobi had gotten into the habit of wearing sunglasses (bestowed upon her by Renji) to hide her eye-colour, and covered up sexually promiscuous behavior with Ikkaku with punches and fights, from the rest of the division until she could come up with a tangible lie about how they came to be – both her bloody iris' and her and Ikkaku's inexplicable… relationship? Whatever they had.

"Sorry," she murmured as Ikkaku held his aching side with his one free arm. "Guess I went a little rough. But my leg doesn't feel much better. That punch was well-aimed and totally undeserved."

"Undeserved!" Ikkaku growled in her ear as they were shunpo-ed down the fourth division but Tobi, "You drove your palm into my ribs at like, a million miles an hour! You're just lucky I didn't pick up that sword and drive you into the ground…" He grinned through his entire complaint, and Tobi laughed.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," she sighed.

The fourth division always had the noises of men in agony, but right now it seemed under a lot of stress as dozens of medical Shinigami scuttled around like caged beetles. "Busy today, aren't they?" Tobi twisted her mouth, wondering how long it would take for them to be taken care of. The bottom half of her left leg was starting to throb under Ikkaku's weight.

"Yeah – they better get me in before any of those damn recruits," Ikkaku nudged his head towards a group of battered looking academy kids waiting to be taken in, "Pretty sure 3rd seat takes fucking priority – oi, Kotetsu!"

The tall, grey-gaired lieutenant of the fourth division whipped around as she bustled through the waiting room. "Madarame-san! Tobi! I'm sorry, I'll be right back, it's just a busy day, the academy had on-the-field training today and it didn't go very well…" She was out as fast as she had come in.

Tobi growled and leaned Ikkaku on the wall of the waiting room, limping to the doorway of the medical ward. "Yo, Hanataro! Get me and the bald-guy a room, would you!"

Hanataro Yamada ran down the hallway and did as he was told, although he did get incriminating looks of disgust at his submissive personality by his division comrades. He lead Tobi and Ikkaku to a crowded room, already full of academy recruits with bloody faces and broken bones. "Fucking weaklings," Ikkaku said quietly under his breath, receiving a tap on his bald head by Tobi.

"They're learning, you dolt. I don't imagine when you were their age, running the streets, that you were amazing either. Be a little more understanding."

Ikkaku sneered as he held his ribs together with one hand, grabbing her arm with his other, pulling him onto his lap. "How's that leg?"

"Probably broken – if it wasn't before, it is now. You're heavy as hell, you fucking lug-"

As she swore at her bald companion, Unohana bustled into the room, politely walking past the academy recruits to dote upon the eleventh's 3rd Seat – the entirety of Seireitei knew that if Ikkaku Madarame were made to wait for longer than he was accustomed, no one would hear the end of it. The longer he had to go without a fight, the more anxious he became.

"I'll have you fixed in no time, Madarame," Unohana said calmly, her perpetual smile driving a cold sweat down Tobi's spine. "And your leg will be taken care of by Yamada. We're just especially busy today, so you must excuse the bustle. Were you two having a bit of training?"

Ikkaku held back a growl as Unohana's hand prodded his broken side. "We were," Tobi said, all the while watching Hanataro hold her leg as if it were an Arabian jewel. Virgins and their stares. "But we got a little out of hand when we dropped our swords. I really don't know why I wasn't put into the second division – I'm sure Sui-Feng could handle me better than that lot. Sorry, Ikkaku."

Hanataro could feel the needles of Ikkaku's stare on the back of his neck as he dressed Tobi's leg. "Y-your leg isn't broken, Tobi-san, just sprained. You should be fine in a few hours. Just don't be too… rough."

* * *

Zuko had spent the entire day at the 8th Division, her _true _squad where she was 4th seat – she was only scheduled to "watch" Kenpachi, like the raven woman she was – and had come back to the Eleventh tired and worn out. She'd hoped Kenpachi would be bathed and amiable when she arrived at his _washitsu_ abode, but to her dismay, he'd stayed up extra late to pummel the subordinate members. He wouldn't be heading to bed any time soon. But she, she would be.

Yawning like a wildcat, Zuko walked lazily towards the room she spent her nights, passing by Ikkaku's smaller, seated officer suite. The door had been left open only slightly (one good thing about the Eleventh – they weren't snoopy) and she caught sight of a piece of paper discarded on the floor. It was unlike Ikkaku to read… anything, so she thought it must have been Tobi's. Her curiosity, inherited from her daughter-like lieutenant, won over her insight, and she quietly walked inside.

Her bony, freckled fingers picked up the small note, written in Tobi's scrawled hiragana. Her bright eyes searched over the words, slowing down as she reread the note three, four, five times, wondering what could have cause Tobi to write such a thing. "_Good luck, stranger. -Zero…"_

"I think that's what it said," came a voice from behind her, thick and dark. Zuko whipped around to stare into Tobi's eyes above her, red and nasty. Ikkaku walked past towards the training grounds, knowing now was not the time to butt in. "I tried to remember exactly what I read. May not be perfect, but that's the gist."

Zuko stood to her full height, brandishing the note before her like a weapon. "What. Is. This?" she hissed out, anger bubbling up in the put of her stomach.

Tobi sighed and sat in the doorway of Ikkaku's room, sliding the door closed behind her back. "While I was in Rukongai, I was given a note, after realizing that every picture of my brother's was missing. It had reached the hands of 12 other's before I found me, all people-" her breath caught in her throat, "-all people we knew, 12 people we haven't seen in… hundreds of years. Zuko, how damn long can we keep up this little charade? I've been here for a few months, and I can't stand it already! How can you stand betraying people? You've been here for one-hundred-fifty! You watched Zaraki take his place as Captain. How do you do it?"

Zuko was speechless as Tobi rambled on, both of their unspoken emotions sparking out of her lips. "Tobi, don't do this," she said quietly, dangerously, "You don't know what you're talking about. Don't mess this up-"

"Tell me!" Tobi yelled at her, pulling her knees up to her scrawny chest. Her bandaged leg was throbbing, but she barely noticed. "Tell me how you can live a lie to the people you respect. Because I can't do it, it's very, very hard, and it's all I can do to keep fighting, keep talking, keep _fucking _Ikkaku's brain's out so I don't think about it! Why is this all happening so fast, because I was_ damn_ sure that it would be ten times easier than it is!"

"Will you be quiet!" Zuko snarled, cupping a hand over Tobi's screeching mouth. "We both agreed to do this. A lie is harmless unless it aims to harm; we're doing nothing wrong. White lies are called white lies because they're for the greater good! You're just taking it all in too fast, I should have told Yamamoto to keep you as a subordinate until you were ready to handle the atmosphere-"

Tobi bit the side of Zuko's hand, and screamed "What atmosphere! This place is a fucking disease! All they do is fight for the sake of fighting, all in the vain hope that they're doing something good, but really, when do they ever help those who need it! When did Yamamoto ever help us? Instead he chose to ignore us, to let us die off, be kept a secret from his precious little soldiers. These people are the most self-centered people I've ever met, and I'm surprised that you could ever get over that hate you had when we were kids. How the fuck did you change so god damned fast!"

Zuko's face went white as Tobi revealed almost everything they'd been hiding. "I changed so fast," she said very calmly, hoping to be the adult in this situation although the two were closer in age than anyone would have suspected. "Because I found someone that wasn't so self-centered. They aren't all bad. Even you can tell that the guys here, the men that came from places like _us _wish more for their peers that still live in poverty. They understand. That's why you're here; The Eleventh was the only place I could manage to see you, surrounded by people who have gone through hell, just like us. That's how I've survived. That's why I come back here every day, although Shunsui wishes I wouldn't. Don't tell me that you think Ikkaku and Yumichika and Yachiru are the dirt beneath your feet like you always thought Shinigami were? They aren't all bad… you just… have to look really hard for the one's that aren't. But they're around."

Tobi took as big a breath as possible, an image of her bald companion flashing through her head. "Yeah… I don't like it here. He's the only reason I stay. Kenpachi considers me a pal, Yumichika thinks I'm beautiful, the guys seem to be okay with the fact I can finally cut someone's arm off, but I don't like it here, and Ikkaku is the only thing that keeps me rooted. I've known him for months, and I already think… I already know that he's the one Onijiin had talked about. Just like you and Kenpachi. It's not fucking _chance _that I came here only to find him; you were being a sneaky fucking hawk while I was wasting away in the 76th. But even if I say, _do_ come to like it here, what do we do about _that_?"

The note had landed on the floor between them, sedate but ominous, listening to every confusing, dangerous confession. Zuko swallowed the lump in her throat; Tobi raked her nails over her tattooed arms. "I already destroyed it once, Zuko… it ate at me so much that I had to rewrite it. What do we do?"

Zuko stood, taking the note with her. "If this _Zero _is who we think it is, then all we can do is wait. She's never been one to come out of hiding for nothing; she knows who's reading this. Judging by who it's already reached, it's touched the hands of the only ones left of us alive. She wants the group back together, obviously for the purpose of destroying…"

Tobi knew exactly where that sentence was going. "She wants to get rid of the Shinigami… But if we don't go find her, won't she just do it herself? Knowing her, she has someone already implanted here, ready the let off a nuclear bomb at the Senzaikyu. She knows we hate her, that we abandoned her, but she must still think that we all share the same hatred as she does. Judging by how the rest haven't come to be Shinigami, they do."

It was difficult to think of all of these things at once, but Zuko managed to drawl out "We wait. If none of us go to her, she'll obviously make a move. She's not smart enough to have a spy. But, she is good with words to make up for her lack of strength. We'll figure something out, Tobi, I promise, but all we can do… is wait."

* * *

Zaraki exited the compound of the bath house sleepy and content, fully ready to lounge out of his futon next to his woman – a woman who had finally come back from her short-lived bought of insanity. He couldn't wait to curl his fingers in her hair, restore the yellow in her eyes as she had told him happened whenever they had sex. The colour would last for weeks without it, but it was always brighter the next morning after.

But, he was upset to find Zuko laying on his futon – yes – but staring at the ceiling blankly, blanched and sad-faced. "The hell's wrong with you now!" he growled out, having enough of her stupidity. "Ye' either get over yourself, or get out, I don't feel like sleepin' next to a potato sack every night of my life."

Zuko didn't even reply as he threw himself upon their futon, relinquishing himself from his yukata to lay stark naked. His hair was still damp and smelled of soap, not as clean as it had been when _she _washed it, but the smell was better than body odour. His sinewy back muscles were relaxed as he lay on his front, one eye staring at Zuko's strange, motionless form, growling inwardly. "Say somethin' at least."

Zuko leaned her head back as far as it would go, chin reaching skyward, neck elongating like a swan. Her fingers gripped the sheets in frustration, and she then relaxed, her posture slumping. "I…" she started weakly, odd for her, "I really do… I really do love you. I realized it today. Just five minutes ago, actually. It's why I've stayed here; you know how much I hated it here in the first few years you were here. Kiganjo kept me interested; he was maniacle and interesting and damn fun to annoy, but when you came along, I didn't know you. I was devastated by the change of pace, but when you first pummeled me into the ground, gave me that scar on my back, first kissed me like a hungry wolf, I didn't see this place so harshly anymore. I never really knew how you could be ordered around so nonchalantly – although you do complain a lot – after living a life of anarchy in the 80th. I lived somewhere so different, but I still felt suffocated. You made it… bearable. And I love you. I really do."

Zaraki was absolutely silent for a while, staring at Zuko's freckled features staring at the ceiling like a ghost. He took hold of her wrist in one of his calloused hands, running his thumb across her palm. When he finally thought of what to say, it was harsh, quite unlike what he had intended. "Why the hell're you sayin' that now?"

Zuko finally cracked a feeble smile. "Because. I know you don't love _me, _always have, but it's never stopped me from feeling something for you. I thought I would never admit it to you, but something happened today… I just wanted you to know."

* * *

"You wanna talk?" Ikkaku yawned out against the inked skin of his blonde's back. Her body always shocked him, how mature it was and how her hips and curves were nothing like that of a girl her size.

Tobi was quiet, mirroring her Amazonian friend down the hallway. "No…"

Ikkaku didn't prod any further, knowing that the strange note he'd read had something to do with her sudden depression. He was at a loss for knowing anything to do about it though, so he settled with placing odd little kisses along her shoulder blades.

"I'm glad I met you, Ikkaku."

He paused his ministrations as her silken voice reached his ears. Her words were laced with sleep and sadness, but he melded his lips to the underside of her ear, whispering his acknowledgment, he was glad he'd met her too. He saw her smile slightly from around her neck, watched her red eyes, dark in their room, blink slowly.

"You're my best friend," she continued, reaching behind her to run her long fingers over his side. "I just want you to know that.


End file.
